Vinegar and Glitter
by Muffin Is Injured
Summary: A-Tisket, A-Tasket, if I had spearheaded a vicious fan takeover of the WB. JavaJunkie AND Literati. This is the end, beautiful friend. OH DAMN ITS THE LAST CHAPTER, OF ANYTHING, EVER. COMPLETED...AND ETC. Fishsticks for one and all!
1. Oh, Right, The Cannoli

Bodiless Off-Screen Voice which always, strangely, sounds the same on every show: Okay, let's give it up for everybody's favorite gal, Muffin Is Injured!

Muffin: (insert giant smile with fake shiny teeth) Hey there, folks! I'm your host, Muffin is Injured. (adjusts toupee) And who here is ready to PLAY… THE… GAME!

(Remember, every word has a strange pause in the middle, and the last word drawn out and intermingles with the shouts of the crowd.)

(Crowd shouts.)

Muffin: That's right, _you're_ ready. So let's get started!

Crowd Member #1: WITH A WOO AND A HOO!

Muffin: Right on, Crowd Member Number One!

Crowd Member #2: I'M READY TO WOO THAT HOO, MUFFIN!

Muffin: Well, that's a relief.

Crowd Member #3: One for the woo, two for the hoo!

Muffin: Well, we don't want want the woo to feel less important than the hoo.

Crowd Member #4: What a catastrophe that would be.

Muffin: Well, without further ado, let's bring out the STAR of the show…

* * *

Okay, so get ready to be the happiest little camper in the whole camping ground. This, my dear nature-loving friends, is, finally, a Muffin multi-chapter extravaganza!

Yeah, now you know where all the woos and hoos come in.

So, see, I attempted to be a good person and get this all written up before posting it so as not to irritate you with slow updates due to school. I've got five chapters written already! (Yeah, I mean mutli-chap when I say so, fool! It'll be plus six or seven chapters, at the _least_.) But it's not all done. The only reason I've begun posting now is because… drum roll please… today is the day, the wonderful day, that our very own **pOnDeReSqUe **was birthed. She is a gloriously amazing person, not to mention my beta, and I thought to myself, "Hanna, this girl deserves a birthday present." And I agreed with myself: "Yes, Hanna, she really does. But what can we give her?" We both pondered (pardon the pun) it over for second, and one of me (not sure which) exclaimed, "I've got it! What better present than the first chapter of a highly awaited MULTI CHAP (sparkle sparkle)?" I replied that there WAS no better present, especially in the realm of not actually being able to give physical presents. So keep in mind that this is unbeta-d work… I couldn't send this to her now could I? So, in conclusion… happy birthday **pOnDeReSqUe**, your are my one true love and quite a nertle-y chick, and I hope this is to your liking, or I might just shoot myself with a flare gun like Anthony Michael Hall.

Okay, so, just for a change, I'm doing a **What in the World If?** story. Yes, that's my brilliant sarcasm shining through, for all you newbies to the world of everyone's favorite baked good. It's for episode **2-13, A-Tisket, A-Tasket**. The question here is… what if Dean had been a BIG boy and taken care of his little insecurities without crying to Lorelai about Rory eating lunch with Jess? I know you all wonder about it daily. It's a **JavaJunkie**, of course, with sprinklings of **Literati**, sorta like Safety Dance but moreso. So sit back, relax, and, really, just enjoy. It's a completely work-free experience, except the scrolling… we'll have to work on that. No one here wants carpel tunnel.

Did you know I'm wearing a pad on my finger right now? Yeah. There's an interesting visual for you. What can I say, we're out of band-aids and paper is just so damn eager to cut. It also makes typing quite difficult and WHAT IS THAT NOISE… there is this really obnoxious noise coming from outside my house that sounds like a combination of a dying mammoth, an agitated lion, and some one ripping an extraordinarily large piece of Velcro.

**Disclaimer**: Ah, I love these. It's just so FUN to come up with intriguing new ways to cleverly state why **the show doesn't belong to me**. It's like a whole new world, a whole new competition. You can't just write a disclaimer, you have to WRITE a disclaimer. It must be funny. It must be clever. It must get the point across. It must be Times New Roman, point 12, double spaced, and roughly a page and a half. Have it on my desk by Thursday. (Serious note: the title is from one of Grant Lee-Phillips' (yay for troubador/Judas!) songs, 'Lily-a-Passion.' He sung part of it in Raincoats and Recipes. However brilliant I am, I did not write it. And I'm not really as concieted as I come across to be, you know. And I totally just did parentheses in parentheses. I love that.)

_**Now really, you know you wouldn't have it any other way…**_  
**Birthday Girl: **Your reviews are, like, the highlight of my LIFE. With jazz hands. Haha, eighth grade Lorelai is rather like eighth grade me… bit of slut, but in a likeable way. Your grandmother is always buying you nungas… I can just envision it. I won't describe it for you, though (trying to keep these puppies short so the don't bite my ass. The shoutouts, I mean, not the nungas.) Naw, I get it… that's what I was going for, in fact. You know me so well, sweets. That Greg sounds like a wonderful boy, and such inspiring lyrics. Is your biography "She's Got Cats" in stores yet?  
**Lassie**: You already read this! You are SO PRIVLEDGED! But now I get your review. I love you, baby. Twin of Anne Frank? I found her book rather disturbing. Go back to Hicksville. Your review was uber short. I put the word giggled in here just for you, my honey bunches of oats.  
**Alexiamanda:** I bet that's how those inkblots started… guy broke his ink pot on paper and thought, "Might as well pretend it means something and use it to make money." You have a very active imagination. How the world will end? Crazy people will wreak havoc on feather dusters, and it all goes downhill from there. It's technically OK; it originated from Martin van Buren's campaign slogan. It was to do with OK because his war nickname was Old Kinderhook (fact! fact!). But I like okay better too. I really love your reviews, you know that?  
**Izzpuppy:** Don't worry, I jumped off the Balcony into a vat of Coffee. I was never really on the balcony… I was just sort of hanging off of it in the past with a cup of espresso waiting in my hand. Yeah, I heard they refuse to sell Bagel Bites in primitive boxes. I think Dora is just biding her time on Nick until she can jump into a prime spot alongside the Croc Hunter. I know crotches aren't for sniffing… try and tell Snuffy Baxter that. Someone else sent me those lyrics in a review too… oh joy!  
**Krys33: **I definitely will die in a house fire… my friend's mom actually set my house on fire the other day. This candle got out of control, and my mother and her friend were very cool under pressure: my mother blew on it and her friend threw the first liquid on it she could find, which was perfume. The flames went as high as the bathroom ceiling, but my mom eventually stifled it with a towel. Don't you wish you lived with me? Donald Trump, that stalker.  
**Lorimar Jayne:** I hate those Cocoa Puff cereal bars. I like the other ones… just hate those. Don't fear, I've heard toothbrush-in-hair is the newest craze. Big purses, dead animal boots, toothbrush in hair. Your teacher must find you awkward.  
**Baby Girl Gellar-Green:** I think that will be the cliff hanger this season… Emily is a Satanical robot who eats oatmeal! Lorelai's real mother is Ms. Patty! Well, Chris may come up in this fic… but Luke is around to beat him up if he feels the need to, so it's all good. This fic, you're allowed to hate Chris again.  
**Ultimategilmoregirl:** No worries, here comes a mutli chap… and I mean MUTLI CHAP when I say so!  
**Epona9009**: Thank you a lot! (Yes, I can be sincere… who knew?) I dig the one shots too, but there's nothing like a multi-chap fic…  
**Leondra:** I think we should just lock muses up and make them be slaves to our work… their vacations never lead to good things. Thanks for the love.  
**Menghis:** Surprise, I actually am your English teacher, Mr. (cough cough). F for imagined bad grammar! Yeah, when my muse got back, I made him send his milk maid a-packing so it could go join a ridiculous Christmas song.  
**Waitingtuesday:** Don't worry, the leprechaun is back, and it's ready to do its thang.  
**GilmoreHorseFreak04: **Please, don't doubt me; I'm a staunch JavaJunkie, although Luke is being a total ass lately.  
**PuffingNoise:** That was one of my favorite lines too… glad you noticed it. I love it when that happens.  
**Oywidapoodles:** What can I say? I dig experimentation (dirty and otherwise). You don't have to.

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter  
**

Chapter One: Oh, Right, The Cannoli

_

* * *

_

"_So this is nice, huh? Come on, admit it," said Lorelai._

"_Never," said Luke stubbornly._

_

* * *

_

"_Just having someone who you love or have some kind of crazy crush on bid on your basket and then share a romantic lunch, it's a nice concept," explained Lorelai._

"_Well, I'm sure someday you'll manage to find the right guy and drag him out to this thing and make him by your stupid basket and then you'll be sitting out here with him." Luke popped a carrot in his mouth and smiled._

_Lorelai smiled back, her expression vague. "Yeah, someday."_

_There were a few seconds of silence. "You know what?"_

"_What?" said Lorelai._

"_This is nice."_

_

* * *

_

Lorelai rolled her eyes and smiled. "Did I not just say that? I swear, Luke, you disagree with me just to spite yourself. I bet, after you lock up at night, you sit alone in your apartment drinking tons of coffee, eating French fries, _with_ chili, and you watch late night TV. By day- grumpy diner Luke, but by night, he's this grease-inhaling death bucket."

"You've discovered my secret," said Luke dryly. "Please, keep it to yourself. I'd be devastated if anyone found out."

"Don't worry, it's safe with me," said Lorelai gravely, chewing on a fry and raising her eyebrows solemnly.

"So, sorry about your rain gutters. If it wasn't for me being here, you could probably have flirted your way into sparkling clean gutters."

"Dirty," Lorelai giggled through a mouthful of burger. She swallowed and continued. "I do not _flirt_ my way into getting things. If the Collins kid was here, he would've volunteered out of the goodness of his heart."

Luke snorted. "The Collins kid?"

"Well, the fact that I'm wearing The Tight Sweater probably wouldn't hurt," admitted Lorelai.

"That's more like the Collins kid. Well, if you're really desperate, I could clean your gutters for you," volunteered Luke. He continued quickly to cut off Lorelai. "Yes, extremely dirty. I know."

Lorelai smiled. "Seems like the Collins kid isn't the only one susceptible to The Tight Sweater."

Luke rolled his eyes, but he hadn't failed to notice The Tight Sweater and its amazing capabilities. "Be careful or I'm rescinding that offer."

Lorelai raised her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, I'll keep my thoughts of your utter inability to focus above my neck to myself."

Luke grunted, shuffled, and evaded. "Forget it, I don't care if your gutters are clean or not."

"Okay, okay," she said. "Moving on, Mr. Sensitive. You didn't happen to bring any whipped cream, did you?"

Luke reached under the bench and pulled out a can of whipped cream.

"Look at you, you're such a Boy Scout. Always prepared," grinned Lorelai, making a grab for the can.

"Yes, prepared to let you bloat up like a whale by shooting canfuls of that processed air straight into your mouth, which is not only disgusting but unhygienic too."

"Tell you what, when my teeth fall out and get replaced by baleen, I'll start to worry. Until then, hand it over."

* * *

"What?"

"What what?" Rory turned her head.

"Do you need a Care Bear hug?"

"Not from you," said Rory sullenly.

"Tugs or Hugs, then?"

"I'm not hugging a bear with a diaper on it."

Jess sighed. "You're no fun, Grams."

"Apologies. I'm not in the greatest mood. Get back to me later and I'll pull an Eddie Izzard."

"Cake or death?"

"Are we talking about me or you?"

Jess cocked an eyebrow. "I sense hostility."

"By Jove, I think he's got it."

"Elementary, my dear Watson."

"Why am I Watson?" snapped Rory with apparent hostility.

"We're getting nowhere. Cut. End scene. Take two." Jess cleared his throat. "So, Rory, why are you in a less-than-pleasant mood?"

"Well, funny you should ask, Jess. I was planning to enjoy a nice picnic basket lunch with my boyfriend, whom I love very much, until some obnoxious weasely guy came to the event, which he didn't even take joy in participating in, and stole the basket away from my boyfriend, who had been saving up his money for this particular moment and actually _did_ want to enjoy said lunch. Now I have to eat lunch with the obnoxious guy, who didn't even want to eat lunch from the basket, unlike my boyfriend and myself, and only bought aforementioned basket to piss off my boyfriend, who he doesn't like for unknown reasons. Perhaps he is intimidated by my boyfriend's overwhelming tallness in comparison to his under-6-foot body."

"Huh," replied Jess. "You make me sound like a jackass."

* * *

"Luke, I have something very serious to tell you. There's been a death in the family."

"I don't think that the meat falling out of your burger constitutes as a death in the family."

Lorelai pouted. "This is your fault, you know."

"How do you figure?"

"You made this burger. You prepared this burger. The meat was obviously not secured between the buns well, and I mean this in a completely non-dirty fashion, because I myself am now starting to cringe at what I just said."

"You don't exactly _secure_ the meat to the bread. Maybe the fact that you were holding it vertically and making it fight with the brownies had something to do with its descent to the gazebo floor."

"Yeah, well, you _should_ secure it," reprimanded Lorelai. "Tape, glue, a nail gun, staples, whatever it takes to prevent such a catastrophe as this one from ever occurring again."

"You do realize that would mean you'd then be eating staples," reminded Luke.

Lorelai sighed and shook her head. "Luke, stop arguing with me. It's a waste of precious time, time in which you could be making me a second burger."

"Oh, come on. You had less than three bites left on that thing."

"The three _best_ bites. I had been saving them for last."

"As it is circular and made of the exact same ingredients all around, I don't think that there actually can _be_ best bites for a burger. Just thinking out loud."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "You're expecting me to take burger advice from a man who hasn't eaten anything that originated from a cow since his birth?"

"I drink milk frequently."

Lorelai flapped her hands, agitated. "Oy with the loopholes! Lorelai is right, Luke is wrong, and the world continues spinning on its axis. Kapish? Now we are _going_ back to the diner and we are _making_ me a second burger."

"Now, when yousay we, do you mean weas in _we_ or in the sense that…"

"Up. Now."

* * *

The ever-present jingle reminded all of its presence as Lorelai rammed the door open with her back, stumbling into the diner.

"The grill isn't going to _leave_, you know," reminded Luke. "It's not like it'll disappear after midnight."

Lorelai laughed as she sprung behind the counter. "You did not just reference Cinderella."

"Get out from behind there!" hissed Luke, following her.

Lorelai grabbed a cup, snatched the pot, and poured coffee mid-stride very skillfully, plonking the coffee pot somewhere on the counter. "So tell me, Luke, where's the crowd? The diner is void of all people, _if_ you haven't noticed. There were people on here, like, 30 minutes ago when I was here."

Luke replaced the pot onto its little coffee pot home and swiped the coffee that had dripped onto the counter with one push of his rag, then retreated to the grill, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel. "Yeah, it tends to empty out during the basket thing. It takes about 20 minutes or so, but they all eventually leave."

"Interesting." Lorelai hoisted herself up onto the counter, swinging her legs and sipping her coffee.

"Are you on the counter?" floated Luke's voice from around the wall.

"No," Lorelai called back, swinging her legs onto the counter and sitting cross-legged.

"Good. People eat there."

Lorelai sighed. "No they don't, Luke. They actually birth children on it while you're not looking. I've been looking for the right time to tell you."

A loud sizzle sounded from the kitchen as Luke flipped the burger. "Feet off."

"Okay," Lorelai said with an over-dramatic sigh, not moving her legs from their resting place.

"Single or double cheese?"

"Double. And grill the onions, I'm feeling crazy."

A few moments later, Luke reappeared with her burger, complete with fries, and placed it on the counter. "Off my counter."

Lorelai grabbed the plate and pulled it towards her, ignoring Luke completely. "Ooh, fries too! Thank you." She stuck a fry in her mouth and proceeded to take off her scarf and jacket while it dangled from between her lips.

Silence fell upon the diner, and Luke immediately began to wipe down the counter around Lorelai while she ate, moving Lorelai's jacket and scarf to behind the counter to grant himself maximum cleansing access. Lorelai stared at the baseball cap clad head bobbing in front of her, chewing her burger thoughtfully. "Why do you always clean this counter so much?"

Luke shrugged, continuing his never-ending quest for a germ-free counter as he spoke. "I dunno. Just something to do, I guess."

"But the damn thing is clean. Seriously. The Tanners have been calling with complaints."

"I don't know why," Luke repeated stubbornly. "I just do. It's not about getting it clean, it's just better than watching you eat."

"I almost resent that," said Lorelai. She stuffed two more fries into her mouth and continued speaking. "Maybe it's because you have deep-seated issues from when your stepfather beat you when you were a child."

"I never had a stepfather."

Lorelai swallowed. "Or maybe you're possessed by some sort of Greek demon."

"I've always imagined the demon possessing me to be Roman, funnily enough," replied Luke, moving away from her to the other end of the counter to scrub.

"Or maybe it's just a _defense mechanism!_" cried Lorelai. "Yes, that must be it. You are intimidated by my overwhelming beauty and charm, and you hide it by constantly cleaning."

"Not true," Luke said, reaching for the almost empty coffee pot.

Lorelai gasped. "You've moved on the coffee pot? You really do put the _ism_ into it." Lorelai regarded the silent man for a few moments, then dropped her legs over the inside side of the counter and scooted over to him.

"I just cleaned that," he replied sourly, squirting soap into the pot.

"You wash, I dry, baby."

Luke kept his head down and assaulted the coffee pot with ferocity and a sponge. "Why are you over here?" he said, apparently irritated at having his personal space intruded upon.

"Why are you so opposed to having me over here?"

"Why do you feel the need to irritate me so?"

"Why do you find me so irritating?"

"Because you're all in my face while I'm trying to clean."

"Ehh!" said Lorelai, emitting a terrible impression of a buzzer. "And Drew Carrey sounds the buzzer, in with Colin Mockery."

Luke was clearly agitated by her presence still, scooting the saltshaker out of the way with a quick hand. Lorelai's eyes stared down at him, narrowing slightly as she watched his clenched jaw muscles undulate nervously. And she internally argued that the monotonous movements of his arms were hypnotic; she was in a trance and her actions were completely uncontrollable; and that was the excuse she subconsciously used as she placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in and launched her mouth onto his.

It was completely out of character and something she had been fighting against for at least four years, but the slate of her mind that dealt with reason was wiped out as she felt his warm, wet lips under hers. She couldn't even bring herself to feel if he was kissing her back or not; her only sense was the way his lips felt sliding over hers and the heat and the repeated train of thought scrambling through her head: "Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my GOD oh my God…"

And her hormone-induced haze slowly came into focus, shifting back and forth like a stubborn camera lens until what exactly she was doing clicked into place and she scrambled backwards on the counter, knocking a pepper shaker to the ground and shattering it. "Shit."

Luke's mouth was hanging open slightly, his eyelashes low over his eyelids. The only noise he could make was a low incoherent grunt.

Lorelai pulled her tingling lip into her mouth and vaulted off the counter, grabbing her scarf and jacket and mumbling a stream of nonsense under her breath as she went: "I have to be somewhere a place a um a one with walls and dancing leprechauns and some who don't dance and you know lots of cannoli and I can't miss it because sixty percent of Rory's French grade depends on it and I um sorry about the pepper" and before either could take a breath she was out the door, and he could see her sprinting wildly down the street, and he just lowered his head onto the counter and thumped it against it a fair few times.

* * *

_I felt bored, so I did this. I need to find better ways to be occupied._

_Deep-seated? Deep-seeded? Deep-seated? The eternal question._

_Next chapter should be up in a few days… remember to just read the story that I take hours out of my life to write personally for you and not review at ALL. Reviewing is the spawn of SATAN! Reviews are every hard-working writer's worst enemy! Whatever you do, don't take a mere two seconds to shoot me a 'good job' or 'burn in hell, fool,' especially if they were the two seconds you'd probably spend dead or asleep. Those are damn important seconds, and I don't deserve them. Remember that._

_Ohoho, I am so entertaining. Like a chimp. Isn't she like a chimp, Gypsy?_

_Plus the chapters get longer from here on in! And better: a portion of this fic was forced out in my constipated, muse-in-Amsterdam stage._

_**Next up:** Rory coaxes a confession of what happened at the picnic out of Lorelai; Lorelai, however, fails to do so with Rory. Sookie bursts eardrums when she hears the news. Jess and Rory talk, and we find out what exactly they later did during that picnic… made jewelry? Shared baking tips, perhaps? Worked on a tap dance routine?_


	2. Quest for Sanity

_Attention all:_ from here on in, the chapters get longer (and better), and the author's notes get shorter. Although I hate to compact them, I'm trying to keep my straying rambles to a minimum these days; I don't want the FF feds on my tail again. Can someone say hundreds of reviews on VKTRS deleted due to a little birdie named anon? So those who complained about my verbosity, you can sleep more easily tonight, no Lunesta required. Especially **KinoFille**: you are the only person who has ever tried to be actually nice/constructive with your 'you talk too much' review, and especially since I really respect you as an author, I'm going to attempt to shut myself up. I'm obviously failing currently. Anyway, this is the last chapter with shoutouts in it (I think I'm actually tearing up); next chapter I'll start with those review reply thingies… God I hate those. But what can you do? So bear with me for one last chapter… okay?

_Disclaimer_ Good one.

**Nertle'd One: I** can't get over you and your white-girl-bum-dance. And the carpet butt ride. Sorry about your chickenless nuggets. I can raise MY eyebrows solemnly... perhaps there is something wrong with you? Besides my computer occasionally not recognizing your existence. Scream SEX GAMES a little louder, why don't you? Thanks, I'm a little less confident of my prose over my dialogue.  
**Beeba:** You are friggin' crazy. Not ONE mention of my story? I do lobe the rambles, but seriously. Anyway, Mada/Dama pops MY cherry… you odd thing. Love the Will and Grace thing. The hardness salutes you.  
**Lassie:** I had a scathing reply written, which was very hostile. And then the next day, I just did not have the energy/desire to be mad at you. It was all focused on the Chinese dental assistant with his stupid x-ray bitey-things that dug so hard into my mouth I cried, and then he told me to "Bite down a little more." He is easily the thing I detest most in the world. And you are, frankly, not, because I like you. (But you're wrong: Literati is the word; it means people with literary knowledge.) I'm glad we're good.  
**Jombles:** Aw, little Trekkie Luke. Haha… Emily ate a ladybug. Priceless. Yes, being the Jesus to my Goddess comes with many privileges. All my life I've been waiting for Luke to reference Cinderella. Oh, the nose, the nose. It is pure sex. I'll try and fit it in.  
**Krys33:** Your review was perfect, m'dear. Isn't the sound of a dying mammoth something every child learns at an early age? Ech, Care Bears should not sing songs like that. Well, of COURSE I watch quality television… Gilmore Girls anyone? Adult Harry Potter costumes… I imagine like dirty, porno Potter costumes. Bastardize a great book, why don't you?  
**Baby Girl Gellar-Green:** My one goal in life is to cause people to make odd noises… in dirty situations and otherwise. HA!  
**Blank-82:** Don't worry; Mariah begged me to put her in my fic, but I refused, knowing you wouldn't approve. It's actually Muffanna… I'm a stickler for that no-H. (Hanna.) Cockrel embryos… what a delightful and completely un-grotesque phrase.  
**Orangesherbert7:** Yep, she only cussed once… now if she had cussed twice, it wouldn't have been romantic. Excuse me, you have a problem with Full House? I'll have you know that I have an odd obsession with Full House. It's amazing. And Uncle Jesse is hot. And I referenced it again in here. So shut yo face, fool.  
**LLFreak8285:** Damn that angel, he never did anyone any good. Don't kill yourself over it having Jess… I try to write him as less of an ass then he was back then. Or maybe I like that he's an ass? I never know. Your review is so sweet… you deserve an A on that exam. You have my luck.  
**DerangedHedge:** Love the penname, by the way. Naw, I pretty much got the love you attempted to send to me… thanks oodles.  
**Lolabelle26:** Oh, God, try not to die. I'd be too guilty.  
**First Aid Kit:** I know, and I'm sorry… but trust me, from here on in, there are longer (better) chapters and shorter author's notes.  
**Elizabeth-intheblue:** Hah, thanks. I'm kind of amused by that too… just imagining it, like.

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Two Turtle Doves: Quest for Sanity

* * *

"I repeat, _nothing_. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Nada. Zip. Zipola. Zilch. Zilcharooni. None. Abso-positive-uloutely _nothing_ is going on with me. Now shut up."

Rory sulked back into the couch. "You're lying."

"Oh, my God, Rory. Don't make me say 'zilcharooni' again, you know I hate word that end in rooni."

"Does that include Mickey?"

"Of course not. Hi, The Year Without a Santa Claus?" scoffed Lorelai.

"Right, sorry."

"I just can't get over that Heat Miser," sighed Lorelai. "And remember that Full House episode he was in? So sweet and gooey in only the way Full House can be."

"You know, it's a good thing that you're so skilled at the segue that I haven't noticed that you're completely ignoring my question."

"I thank God daily that you're not bright enough to notice my subtle subject changes," agreed Lorelai, pinching her daughter's cheek and bouncing up from her seat on the couch. "You know what? My coffee is cold. Is your coffee cold? 'Cause mine is. I'm getting more."

Rory, of course, trailed her evasive mother into the kitchen. "Moooom," she droned impatiently.

"Roooory," Lorelai mimicked, dumping her just approaching lukewarm coffee into the sink.

"Why won't you tell me what happened on your picnic?" whined Rory.

"Why won't you tell me what happened on _yours_?" said Lorelai suddenly, turning on Rory, delighted for a legitimate reason to take the light off of herself.

Rory suddenly acquired a seemingly indifferent but very guarded face. "I never said I wouldn't."

"Then tell me," enthused Lorelai dryly, pouring coffee into her mug. She was suddenly struck by the last time she'd completed such an action, and this compelled her to quickly bound into the living room and press Rory for details on anything not pertaining to herself.

"Tell me," repeated Lorelai, folding her legs underneath herself and settling down.

"You're avoiding my question," said Rory nervously.

"And you're avoiding mine," replied Lorelai pleasantly.

Rory shrugged, crossing her legs and looking at a fascinating invisible stain on her jeans. "Nothing happened. We went down to the bridge and we ate the picnic… well, I did, he just kind of sulked. That's all. The end."

Lorelai raised her eyebrow doubtfully. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"Nothing else?"

"Zilcharooni," answered Rory with a snicker.

"Mickey's long lost daughter, I believe."

The girls stared one another down.

"You're never breaking, are you?" asked Rory.

"Nope."

"Okay," sighed Rory. "You don't have to tell me what happened."

"Oh, God, _fine_! I give up!" snapped Lorelai. "If you _must_ know, I accidentally made out with Luke on the diner counter. There! You happy? God! You should get a really bright light and just go around shining it in people's faces, asking them where they were on 4 pm on January 12th of 1977." She crossed her arms poutily and slunk into the sofa. "My God."

Rory was open-mouthed. "I can't believe you!"

"I'd have suspected as much," snarled Lorelai.

"I can never eat at the counter again!"

"Well, due to the fact I can never see Luke again, we may never go back to the diner anyway, so it won't be too much of an issue."

Rory shook her head. "How did this happen?"

"I was just sitting on the counter-"

"_On_ the counter? Not just at it?"

"Yes."

"I really can never eat at the counter again."

"-eating my burger and he was just cleaning the counter in front of me and I just leaned down and kissed him."

"You just kissed him?"

"Yeah."

"Just like that? While he was cleaning the counter?" said Rory incredulously. "What, did the smell of his cleaning fluid trigger something, you think?"

Lorelai let out a muffled groan into a couch cushion. "Rory, please. I don't need to relive my idiocy."

Rory crowed. "Oh, this is fresh, this is_ fresh_!"

"Stop!"

"What on earth came over you?"

Lorelai closed her eyes. "I don't know. Raging hormones? Pure, primal passion for Luke's toned muscles and sexy eyelashes and fully-quipped-"

"Oh, now, hold it there. Minor in the house."

Lorelai grinned. "I know the way to shut my daughter up."

Rory was dumbfounded, "I don't get it. Why now?"

"What do you mean, why now?"

"Why now to own up to your feelings for Luke?"

"Feelings?" scoffed Lorelai. "Please, Rory."

"Oh, come on, you're trying to deny them after this?"

"Look, I had a weak moment. It was bound to happen! I _am_ a red-blooded female, and he's always there. It's not a big deal, you know? Just one kiss. It wasn't even that long. I'm sure we'll both forget about it soon, and we'll go back to whatever," finished Lorelai decidedly.

Rory shook her head and rose from the couch. "Cleopatra, baby, Queen of de Nile."

"Shut up, you!" called Lorelai into Rory's room.

"Watch out for snakes and hot guys named Anthony!" came Rory's reply as her bedroom door shut.

* * *

Michel sat placidly in his chair behind the desk of the Independence Inn, sorting through last month's bills. The lobby was unusually quiet for a Monday afternoon, for a nice change: an old woman snoozed on the sofa and a few bellmen crossed through it occasionally. Michel took a sip of his Diet Snapple and shuffled through the electricity bill. Paid, paid, paid: where had he made the problem? Georgie from Edison seemed absolutely convinced that their payments were wrong. He had sworn on his mother's life. Michel intended to find out if the woman was dead at all, for the first thing. He swiveled to the computer screen and checked their online balance, taking another quiet sip of his lemon drink before he was-

"You friggin' did _what_?"

-interrupted by a terrifically high-pitched shriek from the kitchen, causing him to fling his drink all over the keyboard and utter a very dirty French curse word. The old woman on the couch jerked awake and yelled something about the red skins coming to kill them all before slipping back into her drool-slathered dreams. He grabbed his handkerchief and hurriedly mopped up what spilled tea he could before streaming into the kitchen.

"You did what?" repeated Sookie, the sound assaulting him as he opened the door.

"Sookie, could you _please_ keep it down?" Michel snapped. "I think our only guest is now suffering from a mild heart attack."

"Lorelai made out with Luke!" she squealed, her bandaged hands fluttering wildly.

"Sookie!" admonished Lorelai.

"How groovy. The diner man has looked like he needs some good loving," smiled Michel through gritted teeth. "_How_ever, I am trying to deal with our bills from the idiot Georgie at Edison, and you are not very helpful to the process- unless, of course, you want me to leave the bills and let our electricity go to waste. I'm sure we can handle without it- I mean, that's how everyone did it back in the medieval times, right? It could be like a little gimmick, something different to keep the guests coming; and if they're all as old as the one we have now then, why, they'll feel right at home! Candles are not a very _large_ fire hazard, are they? Of course, we may have a Quest for Camelot kind of fiasco where the horse kicks one over and sets the whole damn castle on fire, but of course, there is always a blind loner to come in and save the day, ey? Maybe, after Lorelai is finished necking with her lover boy, she can poke his eyes out and give him an ugly bird. Unless, of course, you do not see this scenario as one you would enjoy: and in that case, I would very much appreciate it if you kept your voices down."

'Lorelai made out with Luke!" screeched Sookie once more.

Michel grabbed another Snapple from the fridge and stalked out.

"Why has Michel seen Quest for Camelot?" questioned Lorelai.

"You!-" said Sookie, thrusting a finger in Lorelai's general direction, "made out with Luke."

"Sookie, I don't need it broadcasted," muttered Lorelai. "I'm trying to keep it on the D–L, you dig what I'm saying?"

"Tell me about it!" giggled Sookie, ignoring Lorelai completely. "So, last night. You were sitting on the counter, and…?"

"And I just leaned down and kissed him," sighed Lorelai, surrendering a little to the verbal assault that was Sookie.

"Oh! That's so ro_man_tic!" crowed Sookie ecstatically. "How was it?"

"Sookie…"

"Come on!"

"I don't really want to talk about it, Sookie."

"Why the hell not? You made out with the man of your dreams! Was it good? Oh, of course it was. He's the strong and silent type." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and accented it with a hip shake and jazz hands. "What did you do after? Probably made out again! You crazy kids! Finally dating, after all these-"

"Sookie!" interrupted Lorelai sharply. "Sookie, stop. We're not dating."

"What?" cried Sookie, her face falling splat to the floor immediately. "Why not?"

"It was just a little kiss. A little mistake. Seriously, you could've kissed your grandmother like it. We're forgetting it."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't use tongue on my Gran."

Lorelai grimaced at Sookie and grabbed an icing flower off of a passing cake, shoving it into her mouth. "We're forgetting it, Sookie."

"Did you guys actually _talk _about it? You agreed to forget it?"

"Well… not _exactly_. I think it's unspoken. The fact that I swore and bolted right after kind of emits a negative odor."

"Oh, but _why,_ why are you doing this?" moaned Sookie. "You guys are so perfect for each other. I can't let you walk away from it when you're so close. I won't let you.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "I'm a grown woman, and you can't tell me what to do. We're dropping this- case closed."

Sookie grabbed onto Lorelai's sleeve as she turned to leave. "Just tell me this—was it good?"

Lorelai rolled her eyes and tugged away. "Sookie…"

"Just this one thing! I promise! After this it's, 'Luke who? What's making out?' I swear, just give me this one thing."

Lorelai sighed and failed to suppress a tiny side-grin. "Yeah, I _guess_…"

"Oh, it _was!_"

"Yes, okay, it was. It was good. Damn good, actually." Lorelai frowned again and picked another flower off of another passing cake. "Got any more of this cake?"

* * *

The ringing of Rory's cell phone was muffled within her school bag; she reached for her things and rushed out of the classroom before her teacher could berate her. "Hello?" she hissed, out in the hall with her phone hidden by her shoulder.

"Howdy," replied Jess.

"Oh, it's you," she whispered, shoving books from her locker into her backpack.

"Yeah, pleasant to hear from you too." He paused. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because I'm still in school," she whispered back. "It's only 3:03, and Chilton has some pretty intense cell phone regulations."

"Well, yeah, they have to keep up their Nazi-like reputation." There was silence on both ends of the line as Rory closed her locker and hiked her backpack up onto her shoulder. "So… what's up?" asked Jess.

"Listen, Jess, maybe we should…"

"Talk? I thought that's what we were doing."

"Jess…" she let out.

"Okay, okay. You wanna talk about yesterday, I assume"

Safely outside the Chilton gates, she said at a normal volume, "Well, yeah. I mean, what happened was not really…"

_They both reached for the dropped bracelet at the same time and his hand caught hers. She looked up immediately, blue eyes wide, and was surprised to see him so close, and looking at her so intensely. They narrowly missed bumping heads._

"_That was a potential Marx Brothers moment," she started to say, but her speech garbled midway as his hand slid up her arm to her neck, and she managed to finish with a "Mah- mah- mah…" noise. She let out a whimper she didn't know was in her as his nose nuzzled her neck. She pressed her neck against him for a moment and then pulled away slowly, as if waking from a dream. "Hold-"_

"…something that should've happened."

She could almost hear the wry smirk she was sure he was making on his end of the line. "Well, it definitely was something-"

'I have a boyfriend, Jess," she cut him off. She paused, her words sinking into them both. "A boyfriend. How could I have overlooked that?"

He replied slowly, "Well, I mean, it was-"

"_-on, Jess," Rory whispered. But he was already leaning over her; she felt her back hit the pier without realizing she had been moving. His hand moved to her hair, cradling her head against the wood, and her hand found itself moving along his back, to the small of his back, and she found herself being kissed; kissing back; his tongue sliding smoothly over hers as if it had done so everyday of his life. His hand gripped her neck tighter; hers slid into the back pockets of his pants. She pushed her mouth more firmly against his; he released a sharp moan and then, all of a sudden, she was-_

"-pretty hectic," he finished. "Not much time to think."

Rory leaned her head back against the rough granite wall. "I don't know how I feel about all this, Jess. I mean…" She trailed off and finished with the only word that could adequately sum up the jumbled knot of words in her mouth: "Dean." _Dean, Dean, Dean_, her mind echoed back mockingly.

"Are you gonna tell him?" asked Jess cautiously. Even he could have finesse if he wanted to.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, God, I don't know. Listen, my bus is here, I gotta go," she lied rapidly, and she hung up as fast as she could. She swung her backpack onto the bench and sat down, waiting for her bus with her head in her hand.

_-gone from underneath him. He was flung back on his butt as scrambled up from her horizontal position on the ground. "Oh, shit."_

_His mouth opened to call after her but she was already gone, sprinting wildly down the pier, her steps reverberating through the wood, her hair flailing in the wind, and his slack jaw stayed open as he sighed through his nose and clutched the bracelet in his hand. He rose off the bridge and left, much more slowly, in the opposite direction, with a mumbled profanity of his own._

* * *

If I was a sculptor… but then again, no.

**Next up? Glad you asked:** Lorelai's chill-night alone with the cake turns into a zoo… featuring appearances by a sullen leather jacket, a jolly green giant, and a patty-flipping lumberjack.


	3. Watery Pumpkin Massacre

Okay, I changed my mind. I really can't deal with those review reply things. They gave me nightmares…seriously! So I'm going to keep my shoutouts… but keep 'em short short short. We got a deal? Oh, plus, the queen of de Nile thing wasn't mine… don't you remember Rory said that in one episode? I don't remember which… I remember Lorelai was being in denail... but anyway. Not my line.

Also, as you may be able to see, I have tweaked the Gilmore universe a tad, but not so drastically that you'd say, "What? Rory has polio and Luke's gay lover is Taylor?" or anything. Plus I kept things in that logically follow in the time line, so don't go all, "What? She had to bring blah into the mix, how juvenile." ASP did it first, so don't blame me.

Not too many reviews last chapter… shame.

**Ms. Blue**: Oh wait… you didn't review.  
**Lassie:** Oh wait… NEITHER DID YOU. That makes Izzpuppy first! Yay!  
**Izzpuppy:** Due to my friends' flakiness (flakyness? Weird word…), you are NUMERO UNO! I've never tried to hoo a woo. Maybe I should sometime. Hey, I may go to an all-girls' school but that doesn't mean I don't know how guys are… oh, I know guys… I know them in more ways than one… mwahaha. I remember that Boy Meets World episode… but it was breeding, not breathing. Look down… no not at the keyboard!  
**Izzpuppy the second:** Hah. Two shoutouts for two chapters. I hate that review thing. It's like a lap on the hand. Pshh. –dumps holy water on your head- Oh, sorry. Thought you were thinking about referencing Potter. Zilcha Rooney… Zilcha is so female. I know, I saw the Britney thing on a news website… shudder! Little Sean Preston will appreciate that when he grows up.  
**Krys33:** I'm too weak to get rid of the a/n's, You'll just have to deal. Hah, Zilcha Rooney. I'm a full-fat Snapple girl myself also. My school gets out at 3… most schools do… weirdo. The damn army and the martial artists… always sheltering us. _You're_ nifty.  
**DerangedHedges:** -sings off-key- It was the year without a _Santa Claus! _Wonderful piece of cinematography. I don't think anything really happened then… I wasn't even alive at that point. Merde. That's a French bad word. Thanks for the long review… but I've seen longer. Hah!  
**Baby Girl Gellar-Green:** Backtrack and de-move on. I found I was too weak to follow through. Yes, that was me mentioning Full House. Geez, that seems to be all anyone can mention in their review. I love that Grandma thing… Lorelai and Trix, Rory and Emily… mwahaha. Poor dream babies.  
**GilmoreHorseFreak04:** I watch ABC Family too much, therefore I am obligated to correct you… Gilmore is now from 10:30-11:30, then there is half an hour of Step by Step, then Full House from 11-12. Although The Hogan Family was on then the other day… curiouser and curiouser. Oh, the turmoil of ABC Family.  
**LLFreak8285:** Don't diss mah Full House, you. I just have this soft spot for Milo… sigh. No fear, I was too weak to get rid of the a/n's.  
**Orangesherbert7:** The Full House kids are amusing. And Uncle Jesse is the cutest. Yes, it is a guilty pleasure, but it is a pleasing pleasure.

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Three French Hens: Watery Pumpkin Massacre

* * *

Lorelai sourly shoved a forkful of red velvet-chocolate cake swirl with brandy butter and cream frosting into her mouth and turned up the TV. "This is good cake," she told Michael J. Fox. He responded by falling into a bookcase.

She was quite satisfied with her current movie selection: a triple feature, all three_ Back to the Future'_s. The perfect marathon to get her mind off of anything related to romance and onto things like DeLoreans and plutonium.

She looked up and paused the movie as she sensed her daughter enter the room. "Yeah, honey?"

"I'm going to Paris' house," Rory said, tilting her head. "Apparently I need to work on my WPM for the debate… at least, that's what it sounded like; she was a little crazed on the phone."

Lorelai grimaced. "I don't wanna know what that could stand for."

"Womanly Presence Marker?"

"Wombat Plethora Machine?"

"Whopper Plate Maximus?"

"Oh, those are good," said Lorelai. "Watery Pumpkin Massacre?"

"That must be it," replied Rory. "I wasn't quite on my game the last time Paris and I assaulted watery pumpkins."

"Well, have fun," said Lorelai, leaning up to kiss her daughter's cheek. "And I don't want you back in this house tonight if you're smelling like pumpkin guts, you hear?"

"Deal. Bye, mom." And exit Rory.

A few minutes later, Lorelai paused the movie to restock the snack table and entered the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning over to survey its contents. A little on the sparse side, she feared. She reached for a drink but then paused. She could hear an odd sound, kind of a scratching…? No, more of a tapping. Well, whatever it was, it was coming from Rory's room. Suddenly anxious, she armed herself with the liter of Cherry Coke in the fridge and crept towards Rory's door, pressing her back to the wall. Then she swung the door open and thrust herself in, coke bottle first, with a small strangled war cry.

Jess was outside the window, his face pressed tightly against the glass until he saw Lorelai. He sprung back guiltily, and Lorelai bent over and lifted the window with difficulty. _Something totally déjà vu about this scenario_, she thought grimly. She also mentally applauded herself for not having been wearing a low cut shirt, or else this interaction would be awkward.

"What's your business, Mariano?" she said coolly.

"Oh, you know," he said shiftily. "Just… seeing if Rory was in her room."

"We do have a front door for occasions like this one. It's quite convenient, actually."

"I know that," he said, hands making their way into his pockets nervously.

There were a few painful seconds of silence where Lorelai regarded Jess with tight-eyed suspicion and Jess put all his effort into staring at his shoes as though it were his one and only life-long pleasure to do so.

"Well, she's not here," said Lorelai finally.

"Okay," said Jess, letting out a breath of air. "Then I'll just…"

"Why are you here, Jess?" repeated Lorelai.

He cocked his head sideways. "You know, just… hanging around. Looking for Rory."

"I know that. What I don't know, however, is why. You and Rory suddenly become buddy-buddy?"

Jess' male ego inflated a few points, and he replied with a smirk, "You could say that."

Lorelai opened her mouth to reply to the disagreeable remark but was interrupted by a loud rap on the back door. "You—stay here," she ordered Jess, rising from her crouched position and journeying to the back door. "Dean?" she said bewilderedly as the tall boy strode into the kitchen.

"Is Rory here?" he asked.

"No, she's at Paris' house, they're working on a project for school," replied Lorelai.

Dean began to walk towards his girlfriend's room. "I just left my copy of Catcher in the Rye somewhere and I really need it to use to do my homework, and I just thought, you know, Rory's bound to have one, so I'd just borrow it. Is that okay?"

"Wait, Dean, hold it, I wouldn't go in there if I was you," said Lorelai desperately bounding after the boy with his hand to the door. "Ack… Dean…" _Oh, and he's in the room_, thought a defeated Lorelai with a sigh.

"Jess?" said Dean incredulously (not to mention with a touch of hostility).

"Deanie-boy," said Jess, bowing deeply. "Always a pleasure."

"What the hell are you doing outside my girlfriend's window?"

"Now, just hold on a minutes, Dean," said Lorelai, placing a restraining hand on the boy's shoulder. "Jess' reason for being her outside my daughter's window is a perfectly respectable and innocent one… at least, I'm almost positive that, if I knew his exact purpose here, it would have a 60 percent chance of being slightly innocent and partially respectable."

"What're you doing here, Jess?" repeated Dean, emanating testosterone.

Jess shook his head. "Apparently it's two-for-one interrogation night at the Gilmore house. And yet again, my answer is, looking for Rory."

"Oh, yeah, just looking for Rory?"

"And yet again, my answer is not accepted. Damn, I'm sucking tonight," said Jess.

Dean approached the window rapidly. "Jess, get out of here. I mean it, beat it."

The amused Jess cocked an eyebrow and tilted his chin upward, unmoving.

"Jess!" snarled Dean, hands now on the window in attack mode. He was then hit in the head by a flying white book.

"Dean! There's Catcher in the Rye!" cried Lorelai excitedly, grabbing the book and Dean's arm at the same time and dragging them towards the door of Rory's room. "Wow, that's great! Now you can get going, and I'll be sure to tell Rory you came by." The determined puller and the protesting pull-ee were now streaming through the kitchen. "Oh, gosh, and don't you worry about Jess, I'll get rid of him. You have a nice night, now!" and the door was slammed in the indignant face of Dean. Exit Dean.

Jess was chuckling when she reentered the room. "Shut up," she said bitterly. "That was not for your amusement."

Jess sobered up quickly as Lorelai approached again and squatted on the floor by the window. "Go home, Jess," she said, the ice thawing slightly in her voice- only just, though. "Go home and I won't ask you any more questions."

"Gladly," said Jess. He swaggered off down the porch, his steps unusually loud in the night, before vaulting down the stairs and jogging off. Exit Jess.

Lorelai sighed, placing her forehead against the cool window for a few seconds before forcing it closed once more and retreating into the living room, resuming her place on sofa. The leading heroine was alone once more. "I didn't even know I had the hand-eye coordination skills to throw a book at someone's head," she mused aloud. Lorelai picked up her half eaten cake, grabbed the remote, and was suddenly, unfortunately, interrupted by a knock at the front door.

"Oh, Jesus. I'm just so popular tonight," muttered Lorelai, raising herself off the couch and slouching to the front door. "Yeah?" she said irritably, opening the door.

Luke stood at the door, looking not unlike a startled rabbit, holding a brown Luke's bag.

"Oh. Luke. Hi."

"Uh, hi," replied Luke. There was about four seconds of awkward silence before Luke held up the bag. "I brought you pie."

"Oh, thanks," said Lorelai. The awkward silence made a good comeback. Luke fidgeted in his boots. Lorelai scratched her head. "So, um, come in, I guess."

"Oh, I don't have to," said Luke, waving it off.

"No, no, come in. Just wait in the living room, I just need to… just hold on."

Luke followed Lorelai in to the living room while Lorelai veered off the kitchen. She placed two hands on the counter, bracing herself, and lowered her head to the counter. _Oh, crap._ Why was Luke here? She wasn't ready for this. The unspeakable event had happened just yesterday. And yes, while Lorelai had firmly convinced herself that the kiss was a mistake that wouldn't affect their friendship, it was a lot harder to remember that fact when Luke was sitting in her living room smelling really good.

She looked down at herself. _Doesn't help that I look like I just stepped out of The Wiggles._ She was wearing short boxers with donkeys on them and blue striped knee high toe socks. The fabulous look was topped off by a too-small tank splattered with salsa stains and her hair in a high ponytail on top of her head (was she the only one who got so annoyed by the existence of her hair when lying on the sofa? Sometimes she just wanted to shave it all off). She pulled her hair out of the ponytail, desperately trying to help it regain some grasp on sanity, and, to cover up for her absence, went into Rory's room and picked up the Cherry Coke.

Luke was perched on the edge of her sofa when she returned, back hunched, hands fidgeting in his lap: the classic Nervous Luke (batteries sold separately). Lorelai slid onto the far end of the sofa, sitting cross-legged with her back pressed squarely against the sofa arm and her arms wrapped around the liter of coke. The silence pricked at her skin and scratched under her fingernails; his breathing suddenly seemed like the loudest sound he had ever heard.

"Where's Rory?" he said, his voice cracking slightly mid-sentence as if it was rusty from disuse.

"She's- she's at Paris' house. They're doing some last minutes stuff for this debate they're in on Friday. Doctor-assisted suicide, I think it is. Fun stuff, right? Yeah, it's at three-thirty this Friday."

He dipped his neck into a nod. "Sounds great."

Lorelai regarded his silently for a few minutes, a plan forming in her head. "Hey- you wanna come?"

"To the debate?" said Luke, slightly surprised.

"Yeah! Come to the debate. You know, it'll be- well, not exactly fun, but you know. It'll be tolerable. Rory would probably like it if you came." If she invited Luke to the debate, Lorelai thought, it would be a step closer to getting their friendship back together; plus, it might shut Sookie up for a little bit to see them acting normally around one another. Of course, the key to that plan was for them to start acting normally around one another. _Minor detail._

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. Sure. I'll come," said Luke. He wasn't quite sure what Lorelai meant by the invitation, but the only way he could find out would be to go.

"Well. Good," said Lorelai. Now the silence seemed louder; obviously, the break in it had not harmed its ability to be overly efficient.

"Hey- Lorelai?" ventured Luke. _Now was as good a time as any to talk_, he thought grimly.

"Yeah?" she asked, not sure if she was welcoming this inevitable conversation or not. She placed the bottle of Coke on the coffee table and tucked her legs under her, scooting in.

His mouth danced aimlessly in the air for a few seconds, speechless, thoughtful. He rocked the heels of his sweaty palms on his jean-clad thighs, leaning back. He seemed pensive, contemplating what to say next. Lorelai watched him with interest.

Suddenly she was pinned to the sofa arm as Luke went down on her, kissing her with more passion than she'd even thought him possible of having. She didn't find herself protesting, though; she curled the bundles of his shirt harder in her tight fists and kissed him back. _We need to stop meeting like this. _Pants and moans escaped her mouth as he moved down to her neck, his mouth wet and warm, his hands moving over her exposed stomach. _Maybe not._

Lorelai flung herself off the sofa as she heard the phone's shrilling shatter the silence, possibly kneeing Luke in the chin as she leapt up to answer it. "Yeah?" she coughed out, hoping to any God that it wasn't her mother.

"Hey, Lore."

Lorelai dropped her forehead into her palm and turned away from Luke. "Chris! Hi."

Luke harrumphed loudly on the couch, readjusting his hat. Jesus Christ. What was wrong with him?

"No, she's at Paris' house right now, they're cramming last minute for a debate they have this Friday at Chilton. … Business trip, sounds like fun. … Yeah, Friday. … You do? … Well, it'll probably be boring. Really boring. … Well, if you really want to come, I guess…" She scratched her head, twisting around on the hard wood floor. "Yeah. Three-thirty. …Yeah. I'll tell her. … See you then." With a fierce hand, she hung up, growling slightly at the phone.

"Well," she said with a sigh, turning to Luke, but Luke was no longer there. "… and I'm talking to myself." He had snuck out while she was on the phone, leaving no sign he was ever there besides a slight indent on the sofa and a buzz on Lorelai's lips.

Love 'em and leave fast, apparently. "I guess I should've know by the way he parked his car sideways," she sighed. Now where was that cake?

* * *

_Next chapter on its way._

_**Including:** Rory and Lorelai have a little chat about the Chilton debate invitees and what happened on Rory's picnic. Later, they take the plunge and finally visit Luke's. Jess persuades Rory to have a talk with him upstairs. Define talk, Jess. Later, Gypsy convinces Luke to join the fourth revival of the KKK, and things get interesting when we learn of a certain new member… Tristan! And if that wasn't enough, we learn a little secret about Rory and Tristan's connection that puts their piano kiss into a whole new, disgusting light. That's right… siblings anyone? Meanwhile, Miss Patty and Taylor share a moment in the cauliflower aisle._


	4. Maternity Test Not Necessary

I never actually anticipated that this would happen, even after being amused by the same thing in **ConnecticutJunkie**'s stories… most of that stuff in the 'next chapter' thing wasn't real. A great number of you actually thought it was. I was pretty blown away by that (dirty!). Anyway, once I started talking about the KKK it sort of drifted into silliness… yeah. Sorry for any confusion there?

Hey, reminiscing time… someone wanna send me some fishsticks next review?

**Ms. Yellow: **Ah, a Seattle roadtrip… why didn't I know this before you went? I still think of She's Got Cats as some sitcom, with cheery people popping up on the screen… "She's got cats, she's got cats, she's the pretty spinster and she's got cats!" Damn you Chris, I need my jogging suit love! New guy… poor baby. Injecting my experience… love it. Why don't we give fishsticks lapdances?  
**Lassie:** I feel our relationship growing apart… what's with that? All you did was talk about how you didn't feel like reviewing and how short your review was and how I should feel 'lucky' you're reading my stories. I want you to read my stories because you want to for me, not because you feel obligated to. Hmm. This saddens me.  
**Izzpuppy:** Don't even put that image in my head! Geez! Thanks for the singing cat… I love you too. Poor… um… "Albin," I shall call him. The phone bites you back.  
**Krys33:** I'm sorry… you urge me to be less funny? I know, just KILL Joe. I was SO a Blue's Clues girl. Steve was the awesomest before he had to go to college. You don't have to minimize your clattering, I love it.  
**GilmoreHorseFreak04:** Mushroom-headed… descriptive adjective! Yay for Disney World… I bet a lot of people would love to install an on/off button on me… oh! Dirty! Dirty!  
**smileyGGfan:** My, how lucky am I! Classic Nervous Luke will be hitting a store near you soon. Here's your shoutout, do some kickflips.

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Four Calling Birds: Maternity Test Not Necessary

* * *

Her mother was asleep on the sofa, socked leg hanging over the back of the sofa, when Rory returned home. Lorelai clutched a closed bottle of Cherry Coke to her chest like a security blanket and had her head tipped back on the couch arm, emitting an odd sound every few minutes. Rory giggled and approached her mom slowly, poking her in the nose with the cake-covered fork that was lying on the plate on her stomach. Lorelai's eyes twitched; she screwed up her nose. Rory did it again and Lorelai sprung up, the plate of cake sliding off her body onto the floor as she let out an unintelligible whimper. "Wha…?"

"Hello, sunshine," simpered Rory. "Sugar hangover?"

Lorelai rubbed her forehead and grimaced. "Something like that. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight." Rory sat on the opposite end of the couch with a bounce.

"Yikes."

"Tell me about it. That's Paris for you." Rory surveyed the mess of the living room. "How was your night?"

Lorelai, her eyes still closed, pursed up her lips, debating what exactly to say. "It was… eventful," she settled on finally.

"How so?"

'Well, in just _so_ many delightful ways," responded Lorelai, scooting up to a sitting position. "First off, the modern day reincarnation of Holden Caulfield appeared at your window wanting to see you."

"Jess was here?" said Rory, immediately becoming more alert. "What happened?"

"Next, in true sitcom fashion, your tall, tall boyfriend appeared as I was trying to get rid of the rodent and just about blew his head off."

"Dean saw Jess? What did he do?"

"I prevented homicide by throwing a book at his head and yanking him out the door. You're welcome."

"Then what did Jess do?" questioned Rory.

"I told the kid to beat it, which he did, in a very cocky manner, might I add." Lorelai narrowed a suspicious eye at her daughter. "Tell me what happened on your picnic."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I did."

"No, I don't want the CNN version of the news. I want the BBC version. I can tell you left out all the self-deprecating bits. There's more to the story, and I'll beat it out of you if I have to. I have a whisk somewhere around here." There was silence. "Cummon! I told you mine! And I've got a little bit more of a story to tell you."

Rory avoided her mother's gaze, staring pointedly at her clasped hands for a few moments before she spoke falteringly. "I kissed Jess."

"You what?"

"Well technically he kissed me first. But I did kiss him back. We were just sitting on the dock and he just sort of leaned over me and the next thing I knew we were kissing… and then I just got so freaked out, I bolted." The words tumbled over one another in her haste.

"Wow," said Lorelai slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. "You are so my daughter."

"I mean, I don't know what I was doing!" continued Rory, her story flooding out after the initial breaking of the dam. "I have a boyfriend, who I love, and who loves me, and I just threw that away to kiss some guy who… I just never thought I would be the kind of girl who would _cheat_ on her boyfriend. I cheated on my boyfriend! What is wrong with me? I'm a horrible person! I should be slaughtered, or whipped or something! How I could I do this to Dean? And what's his mom going to say? How can I ever go to the grocery store? What happens when we run out of parmesan cheese? How can we eat pasta without it? Or pizza, it's just not the same! I mean, I guess we could go to Woodbridge to buy parmesan cheese, but it's just such a trek to go all the way out there for some…"

"Rory!" cut in Lorelai. "Sweetie, calm down. You don't need to worry yourself about this all at once. Yes, I know what you did was-" She regrouped her words tastefully. "-well, wrong, but there are ways of fixing it. Just take a breath."

Rory's face was in her hands at this point, hot tears squeezing past her eyelashes. "Mom, I feel like a big steaming mound of crap," her muffled voice said through her fingers.

"Oh, baby," sighed Lorelai, cradling her sniffling daughter to her. "If it makes you feel any better, I did exactly the same thing a few hours ago."

Rory raised her head. "Did what?"

"Sporadically make out with a guy and then bolt."

Rory wiped off the beads of water underneath her eye. "What, again? You little slut."

"I know," said Lorelai. "Do you wanna hear about it, or-"

"No, no, tell me. I could use some entertainment from your crazy antics."

"After my little encounter with your boys, I got the door and it was Luke. We talked about your debate, and- oh God!" said Lorelai, interrupting herself suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth.

"What?" said Rory, interested.

"I invited Luke to your debate!"

"So?"

"Well, I invited your dad too!"

"Dad's coming?" said Rory.

"Well, he actually sort of invited himself. See, once Luke and I started sporadically making out, the phone rang, and it was Chris. I told him where you were and he said he was on a business trip near here and he wanted to come see you debate."

"That's… cool," said Rory, not sure if she was allowed to be excited, since her mom was now periodically making out with a man who had also been invited to the same debate.

"And then when I hung up, Luke was gone." Lorelai let out a ruffled sigh and collapsed back onto the sofa.

"Ouch," said Rory, mimicking her mother's move and letting her head loll back against the sofa. There was silence in the room for a few moments.

"We are both so dysfunctional when it comes to men," said Lorelai.

"I know." Beat. "Anymore of that cake?"

"Fridge is full of it, babe." Lorelai sighed as her daughter rose to the kitchen. "My, we're going to have an action-packed debate."

* * *

Thursday morning of that week found an impatient Rory at the bottom of the stairs and her mother in the bathroom at the top. "Mom, hurry up!" came the agitated call from downstairs.

"Patience is a virtue, my child," replied Lorelai, pulling the straightener slowly down her hair, steam billowing out.

"Mom, I'm gonna be late for school!"

"Hey, you were the one who was so desperate to go to Luke's, and you _just_ told me about it."

"I'm being realistic, we can't survive on the food in this house. We have nothing but that new freaky Coke with the lemon in it."

"Well, I wasn't prepared for Luke's," she said, inspecting a strand of hair and debating whether it was truly straight or just pretending.

"Mom! I'm in the same boat as you are; Jess will be there, and I'm not exactly looking my best." Rory inspected herself in the hall mirror, pursing her lips.

"Are you kidding me? You woke up 40 minutes early to shower and do your hair."

"That's besides the point!" snapped Rory.

"O-ho, I beg to differ," replied Lorelai, deciding that the offending piece of hair would just better be straight for its own good.

"Mom, seriously!"

"Hold your horses, I'm coming down right now."

"Horses being held."

Lorelai yanked the chord out of the wall and ran her fingers through her hair one last time. She quickly applied mascara and eyeliner in her skillful under-30-second manner and was down the stairs before Rory could let out another disgruntled yell.

The two women looked each other up and down for a few moments, each noticing how over-dressed the other was for a casual day at work and/or school. But of course, neither could mention it, or their own discrepancies would be brought into the light.

"Ready?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Who is really hungry this morning? I mean REALLY hungry! Because I know I am!" Lorelai hollered as soon as Rory and she entered the establishment of Luke's Diner.

"I know I most certainly am!" bellowed Rory right along with her. Subtlety was not the Gilmore's way. "Seriously. Show me a horse in a nice honey marmalade glaze and I'd gobble that sucker up!" They were also especially awkward around boys that they had just spontaneously hooked up with, apparently. _Add that to the list, Doctor._

They both took seats at a table contentedly, having made their dramatic entrance. Jess' head popped out from behind the kitchen wall and a few seconds later his whole body appeared at their table, complete with cute little ordering pad.

"Boy, you two can't go anywhere without making a scene," he started off with.

"Yeah, well, we like to make our presence known," replied Lorelai. Rory said nothing, as she had suddenly acquired an uncontrollable and passionate interest in the pepper shaker. Both Lorelai and Jess stared at her for a few overwhelming seconds before Lorelai broke the awkward silence. "So, is Luke around?"

"Yeah, he's in the kitchen, you want him?"

"Not at all! No, no, absolutely not. I don't want him. What I want is to order!" Lorelai finished her sentence with a dazzle-them beam and a righteous smack of the table with her fist.

Jess took a few moments to properly marvel at the Gilmore girls before shifting the pencil into his hand from behind his ear and assuming order-taking stance. "What'll ya have?"

"School," said Rory suddenly, leaping up from her chair with an unsafe rapidity. The _abort mission! abort mission!_ look was apparent in her saucer-wide eyes.

Lorelai half-stood up to grab her daughter's arm and drag her back down into her seat. "Not for a while, sweetie, we've got time. Plus, I think Luke took school off the menu." She let out a small, self-gratifying chortle at her lame joke and turned back to Jess. "Waffles, hashbrowns, side of four bacon."

Jess turned to Rory expectantly. Her eyes expanded even further into abnormally large saucers. "What, me? Well, I'll just… blueberry muffin!" she suddenly exploded in delight, excited to have thought of a breakfast food item quite early in the sentence before all the hemming and hawing kicked in. "And I'll share her bacon."

"Coming up," he said coolly before tucking the pencil behind his ear and disappearing.

"Geez!" said Rory once he had gone. "I'm exhausted! That actually tired me out, I mean _physically _tired me out."

"Aw, hon," simpered Lorelai.

"How could he be so cool about it? He was so calm and nonchalant, while I was over here having some form of a panic attack!"

"He's probably just as nervous as you in the inside, but he has 17 years of his asshole shell to hide behind," pointed out Lorelai.

Rory, not quite sure how to take that last statement, let out a whimper and lowered her chin to her crossed arms where they lay on the table. "This bites. I can't wait for your turn."

Lorelai's stomach dropped as Luke approached their table, making the rounds with the coffee pot. "Oh, God."

"Oh, goody!" squealed Rory, settling back in her chair to watch. "Your turn."

"Hey, coffee?" questioned Luke as he stopped by their table.

"I thought you knew better than to ask after all this time!" bubbled Lorelai with an awkward high-pitched laugh punctuating the end of her sentence.

Luke placed two mugs on the table and deftly poured coffee into each. "So, Rory, excited for your debate tomorrow?"

"Yeah, and Mom told me you were coming. That'll be fun," said Rory, suddenly quite coherent again due to the lack of Jess.

Lorelai made a brilliant addition to the conversation by emitting another stilted laugh, followed by a minor snort. _Way to seduce him, Gilmore._

"You guys order yet?" asked Luke, wisely choosing to ignore Lorelai.

"Yeah, we did," said Rory, looking over at Lorelai to encourage another addition to conversation that involved words.

"Ordering, we did it!" relayed Lorelai with an unhealthy amount of enthusiasm.

"Okay then," said Luke, flashing a half grin and a half nod and moving onto the next table.

Lorelai let out a monster growl and brought her hand to her head violently. "I am an incoherent moron!"

"Join the club."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, breakfast was eaten and Luke was at the till, patiently counting out a stack of something or other. Lorelai handed Rory her purse. "Hon, pay for me?"

"Sure… wimp," she replied teasingly, making her way to the counter. Of course, midway her four-second journey, Luke walked into the kitchen and was replaced by Jess. _Them's the breaks, Gilmore._

Rory took a deep breath and arrived at the register, beginning to shuffle through her Mom's purse, avoiding Jess' always-steady gaze. "What was it, twelve bucks?" she questioned.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked, ignoring her.

Rory paused, fidgeted, and looked up and directly at him for the first time. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, whenever a girl asks me if her breakfast has been twelve bucks, it's really the secret code for I want to talk," he said, lowering his voice confidentially.

Rory bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, I heard that one. Makes paying the bill at a restaurant before ten AM for something that just happens to be twelve bucks very complicated."

"Do you want to go upstairs? To talk? You still have time before you need to get to school." Jess' dark eyes beseeched her to stay.

Rory looked around at the diner nervously and out at her mom waiting on the sidewalk, watching the exchange interestedly. Rory's anxiety was apparent in her fingers, twisting the strap of the purse over and over. "Hold on." She bounded out the diner door and stopped beside her mother.

"What was it, twelve bucks?' questioned Lorelai.

"We're going to talk," said Rory. "Take your purse."

Lorelai contracted her eyebrows and sighed. "Rory…"

"Mom, it's okay."

"Rory, no, just think of…"

Rory interrupted her mother, almost scared that if she heard her boyfriend's name out loud, she would be incapable of ever looking at Jess again. "Nothing will happen—we're just talking, I swear. See you later." And Rory was almost skipping back through the door of the diner, the jingle of the bell overlapping with Lorelai's worried sigh. _Yep, it was official—that was her daughter._

* * *

_Review is a pretty word. It goes hand in hand with the other pretty word Hanna-updates-faster-and-with-intense-glee-and-delightful-replies. Perhaps a run-on word, but still, it has its own beauty, don't you think?_

_**Drum roll please… up next:** Lorelai finds an apparent reminder of her couch-excursion with Luke. Chris calls Lorelai at the Dragonfly. Jess and Rory have a really, really pleasant talk, however ineffectual. Lorelai takes a lunch break at the diner and gets an interesting phone call. Later, Michel's estranged daughter makes an appearance… acting alongside Brad in the debate! Sherry returns and makes a lesbian come on to Ms. Kim… and Mr. Kim is just never around, what's a lonely Korean woman to do? It is discovered that Kirk is really that blonde guy from Hustlers in disguise, come to pawn 23,000 pounds off of city slickin' Sookie, who is not the innocent klutz we all suspected. And is there trouble in paradise for Patty and Taylor? Was he too drunk to remember their vegetable aisle escapades?_


	5. The House that Jack Would’ve Set on Fire

_-taps glass- Ahem, ahem, people, listen up!_

_Okay, so first off I'd like to wish the bride and groom happiness and jolly joy throughout their marriage. Although marriage for me, it's just not in the cards… -sigh- Oh LORELAI!_

_Moving on, my second note is advertisement: go read the new one-shot of **pOnDeReSqUe**, who is, I think I'm safe to say, my one true love. (Not sure if I'm talking about her or the fic there…) Anyway, it's called Of Anvils, Metaphoric and Otherwise, and it's friggin' brilliant. And you know the world is unjust when she has only four reviews… mine taking up pretty much the entire window… and she DID NOT ask me to do this, I just have such immense love for this that I want to right a wrong and get this girl some well-deserved LOVE. I swear, she's about 6,300 times better than I am at writing, so go over there… right now… forget my crap fic and get your butt over there! Okay, maybe read this too… but still._

_To the bride and groom!_

_**Disclaimer:** ASP broke it. ASP bought it._

**Ms. Blue**: "Oh, how I chuckled along with the laugh track." I can just see that, you politely chuckling whenever the TV did. SHEBANG! Yeah, 100 percent intense. It went there. That's what it DOES. Does a five-sixths ass give five-sixths of a lapdance? I don't want my A/N to be a fickle Sour Patch ant! Before people were pissed off at its longness; now it's shortness. I can't win with you people! I liked that "I'll just… blueberry muffin!" part too, you were the only one to notice it. That is why we are soulmates, though. You couldn't sweet-talk a free ample out of him? Darn. I love your review with jazzhands.  
**Izzpuppy:** Don't ruin my dreams of giving fishsticks lapdances! Oh, and I meant Independence Inn, not Dragonfly. You were the only one to catch that, you sly, mitt-wielding catcher, you.  
**Krys33:** Maybe Micheal Jackson giggles, but I don't know if manly lumberjack type men would. Aahh, fishsticks. I am COKE girl, 100 percent. Ech, Pepsi. Gag me with a spoon.  
**Baby-Girl Gellar Green:** Ah, parmesan cheese. I'm a parmesan cheese whore. Spain sounds like fun! That museum sounds mockable.  
**Robinpoppins:** Well hello there! About time. Ah, I wish I had Tivo. I long for it, the weird noises it makes, the convenience, the way I can watch the Luke-appearing-to-rap-on-the-roof scene from the second episode over and over again on my friend's Tivo (seriously, watch that scene). Never apologize to me for rambling!  
**smileyGGfan:** That's not weird… I do that all the time too. Hmm, maybe if I do it, it makes it weird… I don't know. It was fun to write her straightening her hair. I'll read your fics. I'm easy like that; ask me and I'll do it. (Dirty!)  
**Dreams-Of-Oompa-Loompas: **Me too… I have no patience for cliffhangers. Well, J.D. Salinger is considered the number-one preventor of homicide.  
**Ginnyclone**:Why do I scare you? That's sad! I don't want to scare you! Scared, of me, of kitten?  
**Lukelorelaichick:** I always picture the guys in J.D. Salinger's books as Jess too, weirdly. I remember Jess referenced Franny and Zooey., and when I read it, I saw Zooey as Jess.  
**Orangesherbert7:** Of course not.  
**Gymtig:** I loved Quest for Camelot. Hah. Yeah, he sang a song with it, I disclaimed that in chapter one.  
**Best Thing Since Cookies:** Love your name.  
**Sapphirestar820:** Yes, it existed back then, because two episodes after A-Tisket, A-tasket, Lorelai talks about "that new freaky coke with the lemon in it" to Jess.

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter FIVE GOLDEN RINGS: The House that Jack Would've Set on Fire Had Sookie Been His Chef

* * *

Lorelai grimaced and held the mirror closer to her neck, hoping against hope that she was hallucinating.

Nope. She knew a hickey when she saw one.

"Dammit!" she cursed, snapping the mirror closed and putting a hand to her neck. It was a pretty bad one, too—bad in the hickey sense, where it was good while you got it but oh so bad when you saw it the next day. Especially since tomorrow she'd be with Luke and Chris together… oh boy. She was just beginning to truly realize what a lethal combination that was.

"Lorelai?" Lorelai quickly rearranged her hair around her neck and smiled her 10,000-watt smile as Michel entered her office.

"Yeah?"

"Phone call," said the thick French accent.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and held her hand out for the phone. "Hand it here."

Michel continued speaking, withholding the phone from her. "You know, the Thudwackers Cellists Society's bruncheon is causing quite a rush."

"I'm sure it is, those cellists can get pretty aggressive if they want to. I think it all started back when Yo-Yo Ma's parents traumatized him, mainly by just naming him Yo-Yo."

"That's quite right. And while I respect the fact that you need to be in here having your little alone time to regroup or whatever-" (this all said in an incredibly sarcastic tone, of course) "-we are up to our ears in cellists."

"Nice imagery there. The phone, Chuckie?"

"You see, Ruthie and Jamie are both sick, and so we're short of people. And I was perhaps wondering-"

"Michel, the phone!"

Michel grumbled and muttered and handed her the phone.

"Lorelai speaking," she said cheerfully, tapping her pen against her desk.

"Hey, Lore, it's Chris."

Lorelai grimaced and brightly responded, "Chris! Hey, this is a surprise!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry—I hope I'm not disturbing you at work."

"Oh, no, things are pretty slow around here," she said, swiveling around in her chair so her back was to a protesting Michel.

"That's good. Listen, I just sort of wanted to finalize the plans for this Friday."

"Oh, yeah, the debate's at Chilton tomorrow; I can email you the directions if you want, and it starts at three-thirty."

"Okay, cool." There was hesitating at the other line. "You just seemed sort of… distracted the other night."

"The other night?" asked Lorelai, knowing fully what he was talking about.

"Yeah, when I called last…"

"Oh, just, you know, stuff, and…" Lorelai searched for a way to change the subject rapidly. "Hey! How's Sherry?"

There was a sigh at the other end.

"Oh, Chris, not again," sighed Lorelai.

"Yeah, again," he said regretfully.

"What was the deal there? You seemed to really like her," she said, putting on the appropriate display of regret.

"Yeah, well… after a while, her trying to repeatedly change me was just way too much for me, you know? I mean, if you don't like me how I am, go find a guy that's already whipped, don't you think?"

"Yeah, sure," said Lorelai absentmindedly, tracing a pattern around her hickey with her fingers.

"Anyway, it's all for the best, I'm sure. She was too into her career; I don't think it would've lasted long."

"I guess. I am sorry," said Lorelai sincerely.

"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing my girls at this debate," replied Chris, smiling into the receiver.

"Yeah, well, we're looking forward to seeing you!" said Lorelai, not sure whether her words were fully true or not—and not sure which she'd prefer it to be.

"Ah, I better go. See ya later, Lore."

"Yeah, later," she answered, pressing the phone off and tossing it onto her desk as she twirled back around with a sigh. "Geez! Michel, you scared me! You know, you should have a bloodied ax in your hand while you do that."

Michel was still standing menacingly at her doorframe. "I need you to take care of the cellists."

"Yeah, sure, boss, I'll take care of 'em," she quipped in a bad New York accent.

"Just shut up and help me; you sound like Joe Pesci."

* * *

Rory looked at the toes of her scuffed black Mary Janes as she waited in the middle of Luke and Jess' living room. A few moments later, there were thuds on the stairs and Jess appeared, slowly closing the door behind him. Rory gulped audibly, her breath fluttering. She didn't know what got into her when she was around Jess. She wasn't lying when she said she loved Dean; she did. But there was just something about Jess… she didn't know what it was, but all she knew was that when they were alone, all she could think about was jumping his bones.

"You wanted to talk?" she questioned coolly, crossing her arms and trying to regain a semblance of the Rory that had control of all her faculties.

Jess walked to the fridge and pulled out a can. "Soda?" he asked, perching on the edge of the kitchen table.

"It's not even eight," reminded Rory.

Jess shrugged and popped the ring, taking a swig. Rory watched him, hair raising on her arms like a cat. Suddenly she strode over to the kitchen table and took the can from his grasp, bringing her lips to the wet metal. Jess watched her, a smirk growing on his face.

"So you wanted to talk?" she repeated, fingers tracing the lid of the can languidly.

Jess swallowed. "Yeah, I did." Rory stepped closer to him, her big eyes locked on his. "Have you talked to Dean yet?" asked Jess.

Rory shook her head, her eyes staying on his and her lip sliding out into a pout. "I know I should have… I just haven't found the right time."

"Are you going to?"

Rory shrugged. "Maybe."

"Gonna stay with him?"

"I don't know," she said. "What do you think?"

Jess' eyes trailed up and down her. "I don't think I'd start a petition to get you guys back together if you broke up, if that's what you mean."

Rory was now standing between his legs. "Why not? Don't you like Dean?" Her hands both rested lightly on his knees, the soda can having been placed on the table.

Jess scoffed. "That's a rhetorical question, right?"

Rory turned the corners of her mouth up. "Funny, funny boy," she breathed onto his neck. Yeah, it was official—she really didn't know what got into her when she was around Jess.

Jess' chest expanded as he let out a deep sigh. "I thought we were trying to talk."

Rory smiled and kept quiet, planting an open mouthed kiss on his smooth jaw. He smelled too good to leave her mouth off of him, she decided. His arms circled her waist, planting his hands low on her hips, pulling her to him.

"Talk, talk, talk," she whispered against his skin, kissing it again.

Jess threaded a hand through her hair and pulled her head towards his face. "But haven't you heard? I'm not a big talker." His lips hungrily moved over hers, his tongue delving deeper into her mouth instantaneously, their lips establishing a fast-paced rhythm.

Rory decided she liked this, this kissing Jess thing. He was- she moaned as he changed the angle of his mouth- he was pretty damn good. It's not like Dean was a bad kisser; he was always so sweet with her, treating her like she was some priceless museum antique. That was the thing, though—Jess seemed to consider her as an equal. She wasn't on a pedestal, being bowed down to by a devout follower. Jess wasn't afraid to hurt her, and because of this, she wasn't afraid that he would.

Jess was crawling backwards on the table, trying to pull Rory over him. It wasn't as smooth a move as it always seemed to be in the movies; she had to boost herself up on a chair to get on the table with him. She straddled him and let her blue plaid skirt fan around his hips as she giggled deliciously. Jess pulled her down to him, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces as they kissed, leaving the smell of something sweet and floral in the air.

"You're gonna make me late for school," murmured Rory through his lips inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

Rory pulled herself off of him, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I said I'm going to be late for school."

Jess pulled her back down to him before the sentence was even out of her mouth. "I'm a bad boy, deal with it."

Rory grinned through the kiss. "Bad, bad, bad," she taunted, nibbling on his ear. Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots ascending a staircase was heard outside the door. The two teenagers froze before leaping off of one another; Rory succeeded in knocking the soda off the table, spilling all over the floor. "Shit!" she muttered, just as Luke entered the apartment.

"Oh… Rory. Jess," he said, surprised. "What are you doing up here?"

"I spilled your soda!" Rory replied frantically.

"It's no problem," said Jess hurriedly.

"I'm gonna miss the bus!" she said before dashing out the door.

"Thanks for the talk," Jess called out the door.

"Yeah!" she returned echoingly from the stairs.

Luke looked at the scene confusedly. Jess looked sheepish. "I'm gonna clean that up."

* * *

Lunchtime rolled around, and Lorelai was standing in front of Luke's diner. She was absolutely determined to cut the crap and stop acting like a fool around Luke so she could prove to Sookie tomorrow that she and Luke were completely normal.

"It's not so hard," she repeated to herself firmly. "It's not so hard."

She entered the diner and took a seat at the counter, smiling brightly at Luke. "Hey."

"Hey." He responded with the tried-and-true fallback: "Coffee?"

"To go, please—we have this group of cellists at the inn, and it was only supposed to be a bruncheon but for some reason, they're staying all day. Michel is freaking out; he almost ripped my jacket trying to get me to not leave the inn in the first place."

"In that case, you better stay as long as possible," he responded.

Lorelai grinned. "My thoughts exactly." This was good, she thought happily. This was normal. This was not making out.

"What's with your hair?" asked Luke suddenly.

Lorelai looked down at herself. She had braided all of her hair over her right shoulder, covering the right side of her neck along with her monster hickey. "Oh, you know—trying out a new style. Don't you like it?" she said, nervously tilting her head sideways.

Luke shrugged. Lorelai would look good to him if she were bald. "Sure."

This was the point where Lorelai would usually make a crude joke about what a turn-on his compliments were, but she wasn't sure where they stood on the flirtatious-joking meter after The Incidents. It almost made her sad, really. Suddenly her cell phone rang. "Out," said Luke instantly, pointing to the door.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and answered it. "Hello?"

"Out!" growled Luke softly.

Lorelai covered the mouthpiece and whispered, "It's Sookie."

"I don't care who it is, you can't use your cell phone in here."

"Luke says hi!" Lorelai told Sookie excitedly on the phone.

"I do not!"

"Tell him hi back," responded Sookie.

"Sookie, what's up? Has Michel thrown a fit or something?"

"No… listen, when I was making the sauce for the duck for the sandwiches for the tea for the cellists-"

"Who tossed the dog that chased the cat that killed the rat," teased Lorelai.

"-I knocked the spoon in the sauce into the burner and then Luigo caught fire and so I threw the sauce on him and then he tripped and brought the lid of the pot down and so I tripped on him and then my hair caught fire but then the sauce was getting too hot so I tried to get up but then the spoon-"

"Oh my God, Sookie!"

"Long story short: I'm in the hospital, and I don't think I'll be able to make it to Rory's debate tomorrow!"

"Sookie!" scolded Lorelai. "That's the least of our worries! Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, it's nothing serious. Just some 3rd degree burns, a few broken clavicles—it's all good."

"Well, that's a relief," said Lorelai sarcastically. "Listen, you take care of yourself, okay?"

"Tell Rory I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it, babe, it'll probably be incredibly boring anyway."

"Oh, I guess so, but still… anyway. You should get back to the inn soon, Michel was just about taking up residence on the fainting couch when I left."

"I will. You just rest. No more knocking fiery spoons onto kitchen workers, okay?"

"I'll try. Bye, Lorelai."

"Bye, Sook." Lorelai hung up and sighed.

"What was that all about?" questioned Luke.

"Sookie's in the hospital, she won't be able to come to the debate tomorrow."

"Really?" Luke caught a distant look in his eyes. "So who does that leave that's coming?"

Lorelai sighed internally. He was going to make her say it. "Well, now that Sookie is AWOL, that leaves… me." He nodded. "And you!" He nodded. "And… um, well… you know Christopher?"

"Rory's dad? I've heard rumblings," replied Luke stoically.

"Well, he's coming too. Fun stuff, huh?"

Luke's face showed mixed emotions, but not one of them included fun stuff. "Yeah, sure."

Lorelai lowered her voice. "I'm sorry. He just sort of invited himself, I couldn't stop him."

"You don't have to apologize," said Luke, but his tone had certainly dropped a few degrees. "He is Rory's father."

"We should… talk, maybe?" ventured Lorelai.

Before Luke could open his mouth, Lorelai's phone started beeping. "What is that?" he said instead.

"Text message. Shoot, it's Michel. I really have to go," she said, looking up at him sorrowfully. "We'll talk later? Tomorrow?"

Luke nodded, handing her the coffee. "We'll talk."

Lorelai grabbed her purse and the coffee in Luke's outstretched hand and quickly skidded out of the diner. Luke watched her go.

* * *

_I'm sensing a pattern with these Gilmore girls… spontaneous making out following by swearing and bolting._

_And this 'talking' thing never seems to work out… hmm. Do we sense foreshadowing? Well, not me personally, 'cause I already know what's going to happen. –sticks out tongue tauntingly-_

_**Next up… **BOOM! Rory's got a friggin' ticking bomb. It's about to explode and crap all over her face. (Poetic, no?)_


	6. Do You Bite Your Thumb At Me, Sir?

_I apologize in advance for this chapter being so Rory-obsessed… see, I was originally planning this chapter to be the debate, and then I was like, "Oh, let me just add this small part about Rory in," and then it morphed into a seven-page thing. And I knew I had to get this Rory part out BEFORE the debate, and I decided I'd rather do just one Rory chapter instead of spreading it out over a few chapters and putting in some random Lorelai crap, because one, I want the debate to come out soon, and two, I don't have much to do with Lorelai until said debate. So those of you who have been complaining about all the Lit stuff, please bear with me… plus, remember, this IS a JavaJunkie and Literati combined, so I'm not breaking any rule or anything by having Lit in it. I promise, next chapter, and pretty much from now on, it'll basically be Lorelai-Vision, all day, all the time._

**Ponders:** "It really ensures a double cool time with all your European friends." Let me slaughter you with my laughter. Yes, you summed up my feelings for ASP _exactly_ at this time. The sultry, the flogging, the Canadians. I'm so finding out when that day is…I will fake orgasms all day long, including in class, and some of them might not be fake… oh, say SUBSIDIZED like that again, Steve Nadeau! That's exactly what I did… I doubted it but then argued myself into the Pleased!Pro!position. Ah, excessive Fig Newtons.  
**Jombles: **I wanna see a Luke/Taylor fic! That sounds SO amusing. Lorelai/Jess is much better, although still weird… but I'm a sucker for odd pairings, I must say. Heh. Sucking tonight. Jess/Dean/Luke/Taylor orgy awaits! Uhoh, ATTACK MODE! You didn't drink it because you subconsciously knew it was needed for protection.  
**Hey, McFloobenheimen: **Number two time… and I mean that in a non-3-years-old kind of way. I'm more mature than that. –small snicker- Maybe not… hey, I don't even know you and I already owe you forty bucks! How do I do that? I won't forget the nose. –knowing nose thing like Rory and Richard did when they tricked Logan into believing he was to marry Rory in season 5 because she was mad at him for bursting into her class and professing fake love although I myself found it very amusing-  
**Lichelle:** Woohoo, three! Luke's ass-ness is tainting his sexy nose. Yes, I'm trying to take her place… but she just won't give up the hat. Kevin couldn't braid his hair over his hickey… but he wouldn't have. He showed his PARENTS. My friends and I only bring happiness to the completely weird.  
**Lassie:** Dean says your least favorite word this chapter. I'm sorry. But uh… you didn't review. Again… my sadness overflows.  
**Krys33:** Tu? Are you _serious_? She will be flogged at school! Ah, Luke. We do need more klutzy Sookie.  
**Robinpoppins:** I love that line too… ah, protective Luke. I just wanna hug him. Unless he's talking about April and Anna… -begins to seeth with anger but quickly de-seethes so as to continue shoutout- I love twisting odd events into signs that say I shouldn't do my homework.  
**Izzpuppy**:You rapidly grow less talkative… everyone flakes out on me these days! You wore black…heh. Of course you play with balls….  
**Baby Girl Gellar-Green**: The damned spell check is a topic of great discussion with **pOnDeReSqUe** and I. Yes, the debate will be…interesting.  
**Pink-x-Moonlight**: (Oh, puppies!), **Lolabelle26:** (I'm with ya there.), **Chmemls:** (That's what she said. –schoolgirl giggle-), **Blurry Haze: (**We have so much in common.), **GGRox07:** (I smell a new ship!), **Xxnicole033xx:** (Nope, it's an LL and RJ. Says so in the summary.)

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Six Geese A-Laying: Do You Bite Your Thumb At Me, Sir?

* * *

Paris reentered the science classroom, having forgotten her ruler there earlier, to find Rory Gilmore sitting with her chin in her hand, staring fixedly at some distant point beyond the whiteboard. "Rory," she prodded. "Rory…Rory… _Rory_!"

Rory jerked her head up bewilderedly. "Huh?"

"Rory, class ended almost ten minutes ago," said Paris irritably. "Why are you still sitting here?"

"Class ended?" said Rory, dazed.

"What is wrong with you?"

Rory sighed distractedly, turning her face away. "Busy morning. I've just been kind of… preoccupied."

"Like I didn't notice? You look like Madam Serena got to you."

Rory gathered her books and stood from her desk. "What time is it?" She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh geez, I might miss my bus!" she wailed, jogging out of the classroom to her locker.

Paris shook her head worriedly. "Takes a town…"

Rory's half-zipped bag was slung precariously over one shoulder as she jogged to the bus stop, making it there just as the bus pulled up. She quickly boarded the almost full bus and took a seat in the first open space. Pulling out her cell phone, she prepared to call a familiar number when there was a tap on her shoulder.

Not all shoulder taps were friendly—Rory knew this from traveling on a bus everyday—and so she turned around cautiously, only to find Dean's wide grin staring back at her (along with the rest of his body, of course). "Dean?" she said, shocked.

"Hey," he replied with gusto, leaning over the back of Rory's seat to give her a quick kiss. Rory received it passively and tried to return his smile.

"What are you doing here?" she said. She found it almost painful to look at the naïve, joyful face of her devoted boyfriend whom she had just cheated on hours earlier. God, had she really done that?

"I had a free period last period, and so I thought I'd come down and surprise you on the bus!" he said. Smiling all the while, he continued, "Here, I brought you some coffee."

Rory took one look at the image of her boyfriend, eagerly holding a Luke's coffee cup over the top of a public bus seat, and burst into tears.

* * *

Half an hour earlier, Dean entered Luke's diner, practically bursting with the idea of seeing Rory half an hour earlier. _She is going to be so surprised!_ he thought joyously. _She'll be so happy._

Jess was at the counter, holding a pack of matches. He ripped one match along the side of the box and watched it burn slowly, pinching it out when it reached the top of his fingers. He lit another and held it to the edge of a receipt, watching the flickering and singeing with bored eyes.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with matches?" said Dean coldly, towering inches above the little rodent he called enemy.

Jess looked up. "You've obviously never met my mother. She used to give them to me to shut me up when I was little."

"However fascinating it is to hear a page out of the story of Jess' distressing childhood, I'd really just like to order."

Jess blew out the receipt and tossed it back on the counter. "I'm not stopping you."

"Two coffees and a cherry Danish, to go." He fought against his inbred instincts and didn't add a please.

As Jess poured the coffee, Dean asked, "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Who are you, the truant officer?" replied Jess. After Rory had made her quick escape that morning, Jess cleaned up the mess of the soda and decided that, since he was already late, he might as well not go to school at all.

"Fine, whatever," muttered Dean, shaking his head. This kid was going nowhere in his life; he was so glad that Rory had decided not to have anything to do with him.

Jess bagged a cherry Danish and handed him the coffees. "That'll be 62.50."

Dean rolled his eyes and slapped a fiver on the counter. "Very funny."

"Hey, I had to try… on you, especially. I thought I might have a chance of you not realizing your mistake until you were already home."

Dean whirled around. "Excuse me? You wanna repeat that?"

"Okay, now," said Jess, holding two hands in front of him. "Let me guess… next you're going to ask me if I want to take this outside?"

"Just give me my damn change," said Dean threateningly.

Jess slid a dollar bill and a couple of dimes towards him. "We appreciate your business."

"Cute," snarled Dean, taking his purchases and change and stalking out the door.

* * *

"Rory?" asked Dean bewilderedly. "Rory, what's wrong? What did I do?"

Rory just shook her head and cried harder, sobs escaping her mouth jerkily and breathily, her nose running divots down her lips. A businessman who was about to sit in a nearby seat looked wary and decided to move farther down the bus.

"Rory, stop, you're scaring me!" said Dean, quickly getting up to scoot into the seat beside her.

Rory grabbed the coffee cup's insulating cardboard sleeve and blew her nose heartily on it. Dean looked slightly repulsed. "Rory, talk to me," he pleaded.

Rory choked, her lips parted wetly. "I'm such a bad girlfriend," she managed to spit out through reluctant teeth. "I'm so bad. You're so good to me, and I'm so bad."

"What? No you're not," said Dean, laughing a little. "Calm down."

"No, I can't, I—" Rory rocked forward, bringing her forehead to her knees and back up in hysterical panic. Her breathing was erratic at best; she panted quickly, shaking. This was scary. This was a scary thing she was doing. "I…" Her words stuck in her throat: rough, grabbing, desperately trying to keep the words down, keep them from escaping. Her entire body pulled her in two directions. Even her spleen seemed to be taking a side.

_Keep it from him. Tell him. He doesn't need to know this. He deserves to know. It'll just make things worse. Staying on this path will only lead to bad things. It's not a big deal. It's a huge deal! Now isn't the right time. Stop putting it off! Just hide it a little longer. Confess. Let it go. Confess. Don't do it! Confess. Confess._

"Rory?" Dean said slowly. He began to sense that something was really wrong. "I don't…" He peered closer at her. "What did you do?"

Rory tried to compose herself, rubbing her face raw to rid it of tears. Her face was streaked with wetness, her eyelashes stuck close together. "I have…" she began, her voice rough. She cleared her throat of the webs. She wasn't sure exactly how to do this. She wasn't sure why she was even doing it at all. "I was- I didn't… I didn't think." She got a sentence out.

"Rory, I'm really confused," said Dean. "Didn't think about what?"

"Just let me get this out," she said harshly, raising her hands to her nose in frustration for a few seconds. She shook her head again at Dean's shocked expression. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. You didn't deserve that." She wrung her hands in desperation, her voice wavering again as she felt her eyelids swell.

"No!" said Dean. "Rory, no, don't start crying again. I'm sorry; I won't interrupt."

She squeezed her eyelids, moisture flicking the edges. Oh, why was she such an ass to this boy?

"Dean, why do you put up with me?" she asked, wholeheartedly curious. "Why do you let me treat you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're a doormat. Like I can walk all over you because I know you'll always be there at the end of the day with…" She sobbed a little. "With coffee."

"Rory, I don't get where this is going," Dean said. "But… I love you. And I know you love me too. We can work through whatever is wrong together."

Rory shook her head sadly. "No, see, I think that's where I went wrong." She shook her head again and grabbed her backpack, standing up as the bus slowed to a stop. "I'm sorry, Dean. Please believe that."

"Rory!" exclaimed Dean, leaping up as Rory squeezed past him. "What is wrong with you?"

"Dean, I can't, I just can't," she said hastily, shaking her head frantically. "Please, just let me go and know it's for the best."

His eyes widened as Rory made her way down the bus' aisle. "Are you serious? You're seriously getting off this bus right now?" Rory looked up at him sadly from the top of the stairs before the doors opened, her silence speaking volumes. "Rory, this isn't even your _stop_!" he hissed. "At least take your Danish, for God's sake!" But Rory was gone, and Dean turned his face to the window as the bus pulled away, and there was Rory, staring up at him with this look in her eyes that made him want to scream and cry and punch something all at the same time. But the driver wouldn't stop the bus, so he just kept riding without her, a cup of cold coffee in his left hand and a forlorn Danish bag in his right.

* * *

Rory's neck would give at this point, she knew, from shaking her damn head so much. She shook her head with anger as she dug through her bag, searching for her cell phone. "Idiot!" she reprimanded herself sharply. "Imbecile! Sure handled that well, sweetie, didn't we?" She shook her head once more, and a mother walking by with her son pulled the boy closer to her as she picked up her pace, glancing apprehensively over her shoulder at the girl talking to herself.

Then Rory remembered she'd placed her phone in her sweater pocket after she broke down. The two numbers that she'd begun to dial previously were still on the screen; she punched in the remained five with a sigh and, alas, a shake of the head, and held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" answered a voice after a ring or two.

"Hey. You busy?"

"No."

"I need a ride."

* * *

The forest green truck pulled up alongside the curb with a deep rumble. Rory looked up, snapping her French book closed against her pencil and beginning to put her things away as her driver got out, slammed the door closed, and ventured around to her side.

"I tried to book your usual limo, but it was already being rented out by some big shot movie star," he said as a greeting, watching Rory zip up her bag before he took it from her and put it in the bed of the truck. He opened her door and then went around to his own side, pulling the heavy door closed and looking over at his companion.

"Does Luke know you borrowed his truck?" she said by way of reply, pulling her seatbelt over her.

"Well, he saw me drive away in it, and he proceeded to chase me down the whole street before I gunned it."

Rory nodded. "Good enough."

Jess turned the key and pulled out of the spot, craning his neck to see oncoming traffic as he performed a quick, shaky, and blaringly obvious illegal U-turn, a grand total of four cars honking at him as he went.

Rory clutched her seat belt with white knuckles and said, "Remind me never to drive with you again."

Jess shot her a quick side grin as he drove. "Come on, everybody's U-ing it."

Rory snorted. "Cute."

They came to a stoplight soon after, the sound of Rory's backpack grating against the truck bed as it slid around reaching their ears. There was silence for a few seconds after that, save the sound of the radio very quietly playing static, before Jess' eyes darted over to Rory. "So you wanna tell me why I had to steal my uncle's truck to come pick you up in this God-forsaken little town?"

As he stared at Rory's profile, she cocked her chin up defiantly, her eyes staring straight ahead. "Dean was on the bus," she answered finally.

"So you hate him that much that you had to get off at the wrong stop to get away from him?" he joked. "Man, that should really…"

"Jess!" she said sharply, her hair swinging as she turned her head.

He tilted his head back against the seat and let out a low hissing sound. "Sorry."

A few moments later, she continued, "I broke up with him."

That caught Jess' attention. "You did?"

"Yeah. At least, I think I did. I tried to. I don't think I was too successful. He seemed pretty confused. Of course, I would be too if my girlfriend starting randomly crying for no reason and then let out a bunch of cryptic stuff like 'I didn't think' and 'I just can't' before leaving me on a bus with a Danish."

Jess nodded and was silent. "Wait, you left him on the bus with a Danish person?"

"No, a food type Danish," said Rory.

"Oh," replied Jess. He almost welcomed the annoying sound of static that filled up the gap in the conversation.

"So…" said Rory expectantly. She had broken up with Dean; now it was his turn.

"So…" repeated Jess.

Rory stared at him a few moments longer. Then, "Nothing," she spat out, flopping back into her chair, suddenly angry. Great. So Jess didn't want to do anything about it? Fine. Obviously he only wanted her because he knew that she was off-limits, already taken. There had been no chance of it going farther, and now that there was? He didn't want her. The feeling swelled through her. Well, fine. She didn't want him either.

The light turned green and Jess turned back to the road, a pleasant feeling filling him, as Rory's inner turmoil was unknown to him. So she'd broken up with Dean? His glance darted over to her quickly, looking through the corners of his eyes. She slumped against the window, not looking particularly happy.

"Did you tell him?" said Jess, his voice invading the quiet that had been wordlessly established.

Rory knew what he meant. She stayed silent for a few more seconds before replying, "No."

Jess nodded. "No," he repeated quietly under his breath. So obviously she hadn't deemed it worthy of being mentioned to her boyfriend when she broke up with him. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he wasn't just fooling around with Rory… and he'd thought, maybe, that she had felt something… he shook his head. Nah. Apparently not. He was just her chauffer, her basket-eating-company, her morning activity when she was bored before school. She thought she could just use him like that? That he was wrapped around her little finger? _Well, think again_, he thought sourly. _I am NOT Dean._

Jess punished the pedal and drove faster. Rory slunk lower into her seat. They drove back to Stars Hollow with the buzzing static pressing against their ears and nothing else.

* * *

_Now that's out of the way… -jazz hands- Out next come the flaming batons! Plus Lorelai!_

_Hah. Once my sister was driving, and she wasn't sure if she could make a U-turn, but then two people in front of her did it, and I was like, "Come on Lauren, everybody's U-in' it!" and we laughed for like twenty minutes. We're way too easily amused._

_Hey, who loves my chapter title? It amuses me greatly._

_**Next up…** the Chilton debate. Never has doctor-assisted suicide been so highly anticipated!_


	7. Nice Boys Finish Last

_Okay. I know. I know. Save it. I'm a bad person._

_I really WAS busy. End-of-school blur with a million projects, essays, plus finals. That's not fun. And you know how committed I am to education! And once I finished and was about to post, I had an idea and then changed it a bunch. And even THEN after I finished… for like A WEEK fanfiction wouldn't let me upload my document! I mean, I was like, "Hello, I'm already way behind on the updating, and this is soo ill-timed, you stupid bot," but I think it just made it madder. So I sent it to my dearest friend, Lassie (aka **In Love With Narcolepsy Boy)** to upload it for me. She's exceedingly cool that way. But it didn't work for her EITHER! I swear we were the last two people it didn't work for. But then this morning, I tried again... and it just worked. Seriously.  
_

_But I still know, that was inexcusable. Trust me, it won't happen again. Especially since it's summer! But to make it up to you, the faithful reader, I have an **extra-long** chapter, ten and a half pages on Word, which is three pages over even my previous longest chapter ever. AND it's a **juicy** one. No filler here. Lots of **yummy**. Plus I added a little bit of Sigh!Melty!Cute!Jess, just cause I can't go without. This is a chapter for the masses._

_Enough of my blabbering. Chapter, commence!_

_**Disclaimer **(I was missing these) Uh… no. Just no._

**pOnDeReSqUe: **So many times I've seen pile of dung and said just that. Huh… I'm still stuck on 'googly eyes on her girlie bits.' Did you enjoy your spoon with the bitten thumb? I really dig that description of the degree of your excitement, especially the booty-shaking, psychedelic-music loving cherubs. Tell me, what does 'tviste' MEAN? Gosh, I dig Svensa.  
**Izzpuppy:** Agh, I love all the bands you mentioned. We are like soulmates. Except I'm not goth. Kidding! I know you're not either. –coughGOTH- Excuse me. I have swallowed a football, please perform the me-maneuver on me. Omigosh, I love bar decorations too! I've always wanted one of those neon signs with, like, a martini on it.  
**Jombles:** Pshh, I go clubbing every night. Yeah. Me and Lindsey, we just red-head the places up and get drunk. I always laugh at things no one else thinks are funny. It's like a way of life for me now. I'll email you soon, I promise… just getting this out of the way first. And I did the nose thing! Yay!  
**Robinpoppins:** Oh, God, no. Furbies terrify me. My friend's used to wake up and threaten me in the middle of the night. I love the Wedding Singer! "…And I'm reaping all the benefits!" Creepy possessed curtain closes itself… yum.  
**GilmoreHorseFreak04: **Ew. I'm not Patrick. But I do have an English accent. Well, I can switch off American and English. Yay for my British family! Glad to know I place slightly higher than hermaphrodite flatworms in your book.  
**Lassie:** Whatever. You hate the word whatever. Or so you told me once mid-argument.  
**Outer Limits-y:** I always remember a fellow jazz-hands-lover.  
**Baby Girl Gellar-Green:** Your wish is granted.  
**Jane Jaded:** Hmm… steel cage. Interesting medium.  
**Dreams-of-Oompa-Loompas:** I'd say Top 3, easy.  
**Mrs. Lanahan's Bastard Child:** You do realize I updated purely for the puppies.

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Seven Swans A-Swimming: Nice Boys Finish Last

* * *

Lorelai scowled her reflection down, the two images of herself meeting eye to eye in a fierce face-off.

Still, the hickey refused to leave her neck.

Lorelai growled and fingered the weak flaking concealer she'd put on her neck. It miserably failed to hide the monster; if anything, it brought more attention to it.

"Forget this!" snapped Lorelai, and in one graceful motion she swept the concealer off her neck, slammed the mirror in her car closed, and exited, getting her purse stuck on the handbrake as she went. She yanked, stumbled, and fell out into the Chilton parking lot, straightening her shirt.

Lorelai sniffed and held her head high, marching into the school. God dammit, she was going to survive through today!

She hoped.

* * *

Luke felt completely out of place in his flannel in the vast marble palace of Chilton. Hands in his pockets, he awkwardly navigated himself through the building, having to ask for directions a couple of times to his embarrassment.

Entering the auditorium, he took a quick look around, seeing no Lorelai. He could see Rory up on the front, though; she seemed to be trying to persuade a vicious looking blonde girl to stop rearranging all the seats. He made his way up the aisles nervously, but as Rory saw him, she abandoned her mission and came to meet him.

"Hey, Luke," Rory said warmly. "You came."

"Yeah, I did. Your school is… amazing," he said, craning his head to look at the intricately detailed ceiling. "Geez, can you imagine the insurance on this place?"

"Ah, no, I can't," said Rory, looking at him oddly. "Listen, mom's at the vending machines right now. You could take a seat without her if you want; she saved you guys some."

Luke glanced behind him. "Oh, maybe I'll just go find her." He began to walk away as he gave her a short flat-handed wave. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she replied, whirling on her heel and treading back up to the stage. She took a seat and sighed, leaning back in her chair a little and scooting her feet together till her toes met. She felt emotionally flat after her encounter with Jess yesterday. Dean had called her too many times to count, but she wouldn't return his calls; she didn't feel like she could deal with it right now. She wished everything wasn't just so damn _confusing_.

Suddenly she felt a poke in the back. She twisted herself around in her chair but saw nothing. Then a hand shot out of the stage curtains and yanked on her foot. She had to restrain herself in order to not let out a yelp. "What the-" she said incredulously.

Rory leapt up and pushed the curtains aside to find Jess lying on the dusty ground.

Sure, this made things less complicated.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, joining him behind stage and yanking the curtains closed.

"Wanted to see your debate," he said breezily, standing and attempting to wipe off the gray dust that had collected on his black pants. He looked pathetic, but unfortunately it failed to make him look any less adorable. The thought was quickly pushed away, and it made Rory hate him even more for coming. Jess looked her up and down. "You look good."

"Jess, you were _not_ invited here!" she reminded angrily.

"So you don't want me here?" he questioned, all eyes.

"Exactly!" she snapped. She put both hands on his chest, trying to push him towards the exit, but Jess didn't budge. He reached out to push a hair behind her ear that had strayed from her ponytail, and she smacked him on the wrist.

"Jesus Christ!" he yelped, pulling back. "What is your problem?"

"I do not need you here, being nice to me," she said threateningly, extended index finger thrust up in his face. "I do not need you spontaneously showing up and telling me I look good and touching my hair and being _nice_. That is the last thing I need from you right now. I'm in a debate, and my ex-boyfriend won't stop calling me, and I need to focus, and you are _not_ helping."

Jess leaned in and kissed her. Rory slapped him and he let out a sharp inaudible profanity.

"Stop it!" she hissed as he nursed his red cheek. "Please!" She gave his chest another push towards the door and shoved her way back through the curtains.

* * *

Wandering out of the auditorium, Luke meandered his way through a few halls and doors before he saw Lorelai jabbing at a huge vending machine.

"Come on, come _on_!" she wailed at it. "It's just one delicious Hostess cake. Let it go, you have a million others in there." She shook the machine stupidly. "At least gimme my money back then." She pulled the tiny lever and sighed, the clinking of coins sputtering out into her hand.

"Vending machines hate you, don't they," he said as a greeting.

Lorelai spun around, surprised. "Uh, yeah, they really do. This isn't the first time. I think Headmaster Charleston rigs them so that only I can't get anything from them. It's his way of getting me back for that Il Duce thing."

He stepped a little closer, and you could see his whole body try not to bristle as he said his next words: "Is Christopher here?"

"Uh, not yet; he called and said he might be running late. We still have sometime before the debate starts, though."

"I- um," he started, glancing around him at the throng of parents. "You wanted to talk. Right?"

"Yeah," she said, looking around. "Maybe we should…"

"Yeah," he agreed, walking away to a nearby classroom with its door ajar. Lorelai followed him in, closing the door behind him, and stood, her hands nervously playing behind her back. Luke stood with legs wide set, hands first twisting his shirttails into nervous bundles and then retreating to his pockets.

"So… I just thought we could talk," introduced Lorelai unnecessarily, venturing within the classroom a little further. Luke nodded expectantly. Lorelai breathed. "So what do you think about that?"

"About talking?"

Lorelai stared, replaying her moronic words in her head. "Uh, yeah."

"I think it's fine," he said shortly.

Lorelai nodded intently, as if she had just gathered a very wise tidbit of information from him. "Uh-huh. Okay," she said, furrowing her brow in agreement. "Yeah. Anything you'd like to add to the conversation? To the- to the talking?"

Luke shrugged.

Lorelai dipped her neck a little. This was good progress.

"Maybe we should…" she began. She paused halfway through, as if debating the pros and cons of finishing her sentence. "Maybe we should talk about how we kissed."

The word lingered in the air for much longer than it should have, the soft hiss of the _s's_ and the hard finality of the _d_ hanging there momentarily before dripping down the to floor with an embarrassing thud. Lorelai's eyes too fell to the ground ashamedly, as if she could see the defeated word lying there.

"Maybe," said Luke cautiously. "Okay."

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, cocking her head and taking another step.

"Me?" said Luke, flustered. "You kissed me first, you know."

"Yeah, but… then you did it again on my couch. And you gave me a friggin' hickey! It's been hell hiding it at work," she replied, stepping closer and thrusting aside her hair to show him what he'd done.

"I did that?" he said almost proudly, his chest subconsciously expanding as he took a closer look. Lorelai pulled back and swatted him away angrily.

"This is not the time for your testosterone-fueled, masculine smugness!" she snapped, gesticulating wildly. "This is serious. Don't you care what any of this could mean for our friendship?"

"Of course I care!" said Luke. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, you're not taking any of this seriously!" cried Lorelai, threading a hand through her hair in frustration. "How am I supposed to know what you're thinking if you won't talk to me?"

Luke sighed, running his hand across his chin roughly and laying a fist to a nearby desk. "You know, I don't know what you want from me. _You_ made me buy your basket. _You _kissed me and then _you_ ran away. _You_ were the one who wanted to talk. And you invited me here in the first place! And you also invited your ex-boyfriend who also happens to be Rory's father. Now you want to know what _I'm_ thinking? You think _I'm_ being mysterious? Excuse me for not exactly knowing where _you_ stand in all this, but I don't."

Lorelai pushed the heel of her palm against her forehead. "Luke, I am _trying_ to talk to you, but… it's hard, you know? I don't know what you want to hear. I don't know what the right thing to say is. I mean, one false move and our entire friendship goes down the toilet! And I really don't want that." She stood there simply, gnawing her lip consciously, and crossed her arms as she averted her gaze from his. "I really don't want that."

Luke's darkening eyes watched her intensely, watching the way her teeth slid over her bottom lip. She sniffed and twitched her neck a little, her curls shifting around her shoulders. She lifted her eyes to his finally, awaiting a response. Luke took the remaining few steps between them and stood a little bit too close for comfort. Lorelai could feel the heat radiating from his body and hear her own heart as if it were thumping on the table. She licked her lips nervously and tried not to look at him.

"Don't tell me what you think I want to hear," he said softly. "Just tell me what you're feeling."

If it had been any other time, Lorelai would have mocked him mercilessly for saying something so completely puppy-soft. But now she just swallowed and lifted her eyes to his. She found her fingers playing along Luke's bobbing Adam's apple, and it was his turn to have his breath escape his control. She was so close to him; she could count each one of his impossibly long eyelashes and discover the flecks of gold she never knew were in his eyes. She barely drifted the tips of her fingers down the bridge of his straight nose. "You wanna know what I'm thinking?" she said quietly.

Luke nodded slowly, painfully slowly. "Yeah," he said, his breath ragged.

"You have a really pretty nose," she said, and she kissed him.

* * *

Chris pulled his keys out of the car and turned off the hazardously loud radio, pulling on the cuffs of his leather jacket as he exited the car and squinted at the afternoon sun. He was still driving the Volvo, but he was thinking of maybe selling it so he could fix up his bike a little. He'd wanted to for a while, but Sherry wouldn't hear of it. Just another reason he was glad she was gone and he could be his own man again.

He checked his watch: he was a little late, about twenty minutes, but that was nothing he could control now. He took a sip of the coffee he'd just picked up and grimaced, tossing it in a nearby trashcan. It certainly wasn't worth being late for.

Chris took his time finding the auditorium. After all, he was late already. He looked for Lorelai, as he remembered she'd told him that she would save them seats, but he couldn't see her at all. Maybe she'd gone to the bathroom or something. He wandered unapologetically down the aisle and waved at Rory, who looked uncomfortable for about three seconds and got a hissed rebuff from Paris for wasting precious time.

Chris noticed three empty seats on the aisle, and he recognized the purse and coat draped over the seats as Lorelai's. He scooted past the first two seats and sat down next to a young man dressed in black, giving him a discreet nod hello, which was returned. Chris leaned back and settled in to watch.

* * *

Lorelai felt the desk rattle as Luke hoisted her onto it. She lay back and giggled as he bruised a trail of fierce kisses down her exposed chest and stomach. Turning her head sideways, cheek flush against the cool wood, she saw a teacher's notepad propped up against a glass apple.

"Mr. Lambert," she said aloud, causing Luke to lift his head with an aroused and bewildered look in his eyes.

"Huh?"

"This is Mr. Lambert's desk," she explained. "I had a Mr. L when I was in junior high. Mr. Levinson."

"Fascinating," said Luke, anticipating that her story had no point, which therefore allowed him to continue his previous activities as she spoke.

"God, was he hot," she sighed, dropped her head back over the edge of the desk. She began to laugh. "I always used to fantasize about having sex on a teacher's desk. I never actually thought it'd come true."

She felt Luke grin into her stomach, and it made her laugh even more. He gave her skin one final nibble and lifted his head. "Well," he growled, leaning back to unbutton his jeans, "I think it's about to."

Lorelai smiled playfully, propped herself up on one elbow, and hooked the other around his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. She played her tongue across his, bombarding his mouth with very wet and very open-mouthed kisses. And then she giggled and turned her head so his mouth caught her cheek. "Is it wrong that The Police is running through my head right now? And Van Halen? At the same time? And they're clashing pretty badly. I don't think it's a good combination."

Luke rolled his eyes and found a way to shut her up.

* * *

Chris felt his eyes slip closed for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, and, for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, he jerked himself awake again. Okay, he loved Rory and everything, but doctor-assisted suicide was boring.

He leaned over to the boy beside him and muttered, "Could this get any more boring?"

Jess turned and looked at the scruffy man next to him. "Oh, I bet it could. You ever spent two hours locked in a building with a cardigan-wearing grocer talking about the regrouting of the town's bird bath?"

Chris laughed appreciatively. "No, and I hope to God I'll never have to."

A woman behind them shushed them loudly. Chris leaned in closer and whispered, "Only twenty-five minutes left, though."

"Yeah, it couldn't come fast enough," replied Jess, his gaze locked on Rory.

Chris caught where he was looking. "See that girl speaking? That's my daughter Rory."

Jess turned his head in surprise. He'd never heard Rory or Lorelai talk about The Father much; it seemed to be a kind of hush-hush topic, and when they did talk about him, he could always hear a twinge of bitterness in Lorelai's voice. He didn't expect it to be normal, anyway—after all, single mom who got pregnant at sixteen doesn't usually count for a healthy parental relationship. "You're Rory's dad?"

"Yeah, do you know Rory?" Chris questioned.

"Yeah. I'm friends with Rory. I live in Stars Hollow; I'm Luke's nephew."

"Ah, Luke," said Chris meaningfully. "I've heard him mentioned. Is he here too?"

"Yeah, he is, but I haven't seen him since we got here. Or Lorelai."

Before Chris could respond, there was a chorus of rather angry 'Shhh!'s from behind them, the angry snake hiss of Chiltonian parents. Chris slunk lower in his chair with a quick smile thrown towards Jess. Jess nodded and than rolled his eyes to himself. God.

* * *

After Paris and Rory were announced the winners of the debate, and Chris and Jess both whistled and clapped as loud as they possibly could, the auditorium was emptying as people slowly milled out of the double doors.

Chris stretched and let out a terrific yawn. "God, I've been waiting to do that."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad," said Jess. He personally had enjoyed the view.

"Where the hell is Lorelai?" said Chris, delving into his pocket for his cell phone. He nodded to Jess apologetically and dialed her number. The phone rang four times and then was cut off abruptly. "Lorelai?"

There was a squabble, and he heard Lorelai faintly yell, "Fuck!" before she answered fully. "Christopher?"

"Hey, Lorelai. Are you alright?" he said worriedly. "All your stuff is here, but you never made it to the debate."

"Shit!" cried Lorelai. He heard more rustling, and then what sounded like a second voice.

"Where are you?" he questioned.

'I'll be there soon!" she said, and she hung up.

* * *

Lorelai leaned against Luke and gently bit his sweaty shoulder. She still sat on the desk, her arms entwined around the standing form in front of her. He stroked her hair softly and sighed into it. His fingertips were charged with nervous electricity; he let his hands drift a trail of sparks down her bare back.

Luke started to pull his face away from her hair, but Lorelai tightened her grip on him, keeping him close. She knew that the second they separated, they would have to talk about what they had just done: what it meant, or, worse, what it didn't mean. She knew that it had to happen, but she just wanted to prevent it for as long as she could.

Luke drifted his nose through her hair, intoxicated by the smell and feel of her all around him, but he knew they couldn't stay like this forever. He pulled back. "Lorelai, I-" he began, but then he was rudely interrupted by a strong buzzing followed by an electric version of 'Heart of Glass.'

"That's my phone," she said quickly, forcing her way off of the desk. Luke kept his hands on her waist.

"Lorelai, please, let it ring. We need to talk. Isn't that why we came in here in the first place?" He dipped her head closer to hers insistently, looking at her.

"Yeah, and look what happened then. Talking is not our forte, Luke. We're much better at other things."

She wriggled away from him. Luke sighed and let go of her waist. Lorelai rushed over to a jumble of clothes, throwing her sweater and Luke's boxers away to find her pants. Pulling the phone out of her back pocket, she opened it quickly and turned her back to Luke. She didn't want to look at him right now, or see him looking at her. She thanked the Lord to whoever was calling at that particular moment.

After hearing the voice at the other end say her name, she revoked her last thought. _Christopher_. She cringed. "Fuck!" she muttered. She pressed the phone to her leg and said frantically to Luke, "Quick, get dressed!"

"What?" he replied, but Lorelai had already gotten her sweater over one arm, lifted the phone to her ear and said distractedly, "Christopher?"

"Hey, Lorelai. Are you alright? All your stuff is here, but you never made it to the debate."

"Shit!" cursed Lorelai loudly. She held the phone away from her again and said, "Luke, seriously, we need to go! We missed the entire fucking debate!" She pulled her head and the remaining arm through her sweater.

"God dammit, are you serious?" growled Luke, running to grab the far-flung boxers and pulling them on. Lorelai hopped with her leg caught in her underwear as Chris spoke again.

'Where are you?" he asked. Lorelai skidded across the floor to her pants and spit into the phone, flustered, "I'll be there soon!" before hanging up and lobbing the phone at Luke, who caught it and then zipped his jeans.

"Luke, this is bad," said Lorelai, forcing herself into her tight pants with a lack of ease. "We've been in here for over an hour! We missed the whole thing! Oh God, what is Rory gonna say?" She grabbed her heels and sat on a nearby desk, trying to hook the uncomfortable weird thingy through the other thingy and then around the second thingy except the first thingy was twisted and— "Dammit!" she yelled again.

Luke left his flannel unbuttoned and reached for his baseball cap, which was hanging from Mr. Lambert's Superman bobblehead. "Lorelai, calm down," he said, trying to sooth her. "Rory will understand…probably." He looked around. "Where's my other shoe?"

"I- ugh! What is _wrong _with us" replied Lorelai, grabbing his nearby left shoe and throwing it at him with a little more gusto than necessary. It missed his head by an inch and thwacked against the whiteboard with a rattle, startling Luke.

Yeah, she was more than a little wigged. The phone call from her favoritest person ever Chris and the way she knew Rory would react to her missed debate did nothing but add to her problems and her insecurities over her and Luke. But his shoe was a great way to let it out a little.

Luke stuffed his socked foot (on which the sock was on backward) into his shoe and didn't bother to tie it. He looked at Lorelai and sighed, his hand outstretched in a conversational position but his mouth caught on nothing. Then he shook his head. "Forget it. Let's go." He tossed the phone back at her and left the room without looking back.

Lorelai dropped her head and let out a deep groan. Tucking the phone into her back pocket once more, she approached the exit, resting a hand on the doorknob for a moment, and realized that they hadn't even locked the door.

"Jesus Christ, I really am sixteen," she grumbled before closing the door behind her.

* * *

_Who else here finds the word 'gesticulating' to be so incredibly sexual? Show of hands? I can't even believe I used it. If I were a reader, I would just LAUGH. I wouldn't take me seriously._

_Okay, so yeah. There's your action-packed sorry-chapter. And hey! I just realized, this is chapter 7. That's the sex chapter, according to **gilmoregirl1979**. That was… (beat) …LUCKY. Just like Luke and Lorelai got._

_Review and I will post again before the next Ice Age. (Really.) Deal?_


	8. A Royal Disturbance

_Okay, didn't take THAT long this time, but still a very long time. This time it purely WAS out of my control… see, I finished this chapter exactly ten days ago, but the posting was left until today for two reasons. One, the very next day after I finished it I was punished to my father's house for over a week, where the computer was sorely out of my reach, and I was choked all night by my sheddy dog's fur everywhere, as I slept on a mattress on the floor because my sister doesn't like to share her queen sized bed. And two, more importantly, posting needed to happen on this very date of July 15th for Jombles' birthday. Yes! I know you're as thrilled as I. Well, sorry, but I'm really bad at getting people presents, and this is quite literally the best I can do. So, happiest of happy birthdays to **Jombles**! She is a smashingly delightful persona, and also the co-creator of a very successful religious harboring two official members, I think, her and myself being included, and therefore I am awfully glad I know her. _

_Oh! Plus this chapter is ALSO ridiculously oversized! Eleven pages! Wowie! Count 'em! Even longer than last chapter!_

_I go on my yearly England trip for four weeks on the 18th. So yes, that means this is the last chapter for a month. Sorry about that… remember this time last year? With the rereposting of VKTRS and the lengthy, sugary-sweet Christmas one-shot? Ahh, memories. Anyway, I'll try to work on it in bits and pieces while I'm over there, but I probably won't. Hey, at least I'm being honest._

_Hokay, enough of me. I'm not nearly as amusing as, say, a pair of tangoing fish, or Graham Chapman yelling "BURMA!"_

_**All-Important Birthday One: **He was laying down so he could pull on her ankle. And it was behind the stage! No one goes there in Chilton! I don't like this terrible hatred your friends seem to have for me. Okay, guys, I let it slide, but being repeatedly referred to as a man is starting to feel slightly offensive. You so did not just say Kevin. NOSE! Loved your review, very tingly and happy.  
**Pondy:** Bratwurst. Heh. Like in 10 Things I Hate about You. –sigh- Ohh, HEATH. I would like nothing better than to corrupt the Svensa language with you. God, I wonder in what country people speak such a language? And do they feel like a forgotten minority? Perhaps there will be a hostile Svensian takeover, and we will soon be having our faces shoved in dirt by angry Svensians as they bellow, "TVISTE! TVISTE!" I know, I wonder what broke up the love? Yes, I'm sure Quasimodo played a part in their luck. AH! BOWIE! I am listening to him right now.  
**Lassie:** Oh, I know, but –flutter- he looked so good in that tight sweater before Luke pushed him in the lake. Yeah, I thought about having someone walk in, but I figured I had enough going on without doing that to poor Luke.  
**Izzpuppy:** The email was there twice because I posted it first without putting in the lines. I still had the word LINE in there. But you can give FF a spanking anyway for all it did to me in the past. Omigod… I have that exact shirt! Black AC/DC, red and sliver rhinestones! Freaky. Want more proof of our kindred spirits? Yeah, Bowie at the Beeb. Beeb is British slang for the BBC, you know. I use youtube all the time. I saw a documentary on Bowie's teeth. Greatest thing to exist ever on the internet.  
**Robinpoppins: **We're totally kindred spirits. Well, thank you, I do try to make waiting worth your while. Ah, that freakin' Chris. I ripped like three keys off my friend's keyboard once. It was kind of fun to press the little circle left. Thanks for the yummy review.  
**StephieM:** Agreed! Let's samba.  
**Outer Limits-y:** Hopefully you are only slightly chilled. Lukewarm, even. Heh. Luke warm, dirty_.  
_**Moonmouse:** Let's start a club!  
**Ronata:** You are wickedly sweet, thanks for the much-appreciated love.  
**Lyonser:** In fact I have, and it is uncommonly delicious._

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Eight Maids A-Milking: A Royal Disturbance

* * *

Luke walked briskly back to the auditorium; Lorelai sprinted awkwardly. She caught up with him and she put a hand on his arm to slow him. "Luke, wait-" 

He shrugged her off. "Lorelai, forget it," he said gruffly, trying to restrain his wounded psyche over what he felt was Lorelai's rejection. "Let's just go in."

He strode into the auditorium with Lorelai at his heels, and they both stopped short when they saw their company. They rose. Luke eyed Jess with his mouth agape.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said to Jess.

"Came to see the debate," he said, sitting again. "Unlike _some_ people," he added in a low voice.

Lorelai blushed. Luke glowered. "How did you get here?"

"Luke, you drive a truck. You gotta expect some hop-ons."

Chris stepped out to greet the two. "Hey, Lore," he said, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on her lips, as usual. She turned her head at the last minute, letting his mouth catch her cheek and the crease of her lips.

"Hey, you," she returned, smiling unsteadily.

Chris nodded quickly at Luke to acknowledge him. "So where the hell were you? You missed the whole thing," he said to Lorelai.

"Oh, well, you know… I…" floundered Lorelai. She looked at Luke quickly. "There was an emergency at the inn; I had to go back."

"And leave your purse?"

"It was pretty urgent."

"With your car keys?"

Luke jumped in before Lorelai could stumble out with an excuse. "I was just arriving here and I saw her; I gave her a ride back. Her Jeep's been on the fritz."

"On the fritz!" burst out Lorelai in agreement. Lorelai nodded at Luke gratefully and thought grimly to herself, _God, I really need to get some people skills._

Chris gave Lorelai an odd look. "Yeah, okay." He studied the two. "But why, when I called you, did you sound so-"

"Hey! Uh…" butted in Lorelai, glancing back at Jess sprawled out in his seat still, "how do you two know each other?"

"We were sitting together, and we got to talking," said Chris happily, turning to look at Jess too. Jess raised his head to see the three adults staring at him, all with varying degrees of delight.

"I'm gonna go find Rory," he said as a response, standing and walking down to the stage. He jumped up and disappeared through the curtains.

This left a very awkward trio: a very disheveled and embarrassed Luke and Lorelai with a quite oblivious Chris.

"You two didn't miss much," said Chris, hands in his pockets. "It was kind of a bore."

"I would've wanted to see it anyway, just to watch Rory," muttered Luke with a touch of hostility. Chris and Lorelai looked at him. Lorelai cleared her throat.

"So…" she began. She rocked on her heels and flashed both men a wide grin. She tried to think of something the two men had in common, but all she could think of was that they had both had sex with her. And she didn't think they'd find that a pleasant conversational topic.

"Lore, before I forget…" said Chris, smiling persuasively at her. "I wondered if I could crash at your place for a few days. Just for the weekend!" he said as he saw her blanch. "I don't get to see Rory that much and it'd be a shame to just leave after not getting to spend anytime with her."

"Well," said Lorelai, drawing out the word looking at Luke, whose jaw muscles were clenching wildly. Not a good sign. "I don't know…"

"I know Rory would love it," he said, his winning line, which Luke found insufferable. Chris wouldn't know what Rory would love. He didn't know her. He was just using his daughter to get closer to her mother. Luke put a hand to his jaw over his tense muscles.

"I'm sure she would," lamented Lorelai, glancing between the two men. "I guess you could… for a _few_ days."

"Thanks, Lore! I swear, two, three nights and I'm gone. Four at the most, and I'm gone," he grinned, squeezing her shoulder. "I'm gonna go wait out in the parking lot for you girls; I'll follow the Jeep back to Stars Hollow in my bike, okay?"

Lorelai smiled tightly and nodded. Chris nodded at Luke. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Yeah, you too," he replied, his face emotionless. Chris smiled at Lorelai once more and headed out of the auditorium.

* * *

Jess pushed back the deep blue clinging velvet of the Chilton curtains and retreated backstage. Finding it empty, he went through the door to see Rory in a small boiler room with the door ajar, which was obviously being used as a makeshift storage area for the students in the debate to put their bags and such. Rory was in discussion with the same girl she had debated with: the girl who he'd seen at the diner with Rory once, a Paris something or other. 

"Paris, I really _am_ sorry. But I barely ever get to see my dad and I think he'd like to hang out with me."

"Fine, whatever. Far be it from me to be more important than him. Or your future as a public speaker. Sure, go chew the fat with Big Daddy, that'll get you places."

"I swear, we can set up some other time to compare our WPM's! There would be nothing I'd like better!"

"Don't mock the WPM, Rory!" spat the girl before storming out the door and past Jess. Rory sighed, and as she turned she caught sight of Jess standing there.

She stared at him. "_Why_ are you still _here_?" she said incredulously, with more shock than hostility.

"I said I came to see your debate, didn't I?" he reminded, walking in and leaning against the doorframe. "So I did."

"You seriously watched my whole debate?"

"Yeah, and I sat next to your father. I think we bonded," he smirked, widening his eyes.

"You met my dad?" she asked.

Jess nodded. "And he loves me. I'll think we'll start a club together."

"Oh yeah? What's that, teenage-rebel slackers who pretend to like Rory more than they actually do?" she countered angrily.

Jess raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised at her outburst. "Hey, now. What's up with you today?"

"Like I don't know why you're really following me and watching my debates and acting like this?" she snapped saucily. "Like I don't know?"

"You know, huh? You know why? Then tell me. Tell me why I'm really doing this," he taunted back, stepping closer. "What is it, was I expecting some kind of My So-Called Life clandestine boiler room hookup? Or am I a killer, do I have a machete concealed behind my back?" He flung his arms out. "Please, clue me in on my motive!"

"I don't know!" she cried in return. "I don't understand you at all! I'm trying to, but you're so damn mysterious, and you don't talk, and… I mean, one second you're making out with me on a bridge and then you want to talk, and then the next minute we're making out on your kitchen table, and then you're driving out to pick me up when I break up with Dean but then you won't talk to me, and then you show up here and you act all nice and you touch me and my hair and kiss me and stay to watch my debate! And throughout all of this, you have never, not once, even told me what any of this means to you! I mean, am I just one-of-the-many or what? Am I more than that? Am I not even that? Am I less? I mean, what? Are you just playing with Dean's mind? Are you just playing with my mind? Or are you just playing? Or do you really want to be… I don't even know!" she wailed. She buried her face in her hands and growled, "My God, my brain doesn't have enough room for all this. It's too full of WP-friggin'-M's. I don't have time for this, I don't have time for you."

Jess, startled, came closer and put a hand on her arm. "Jesus Christ, Rory. Don't get so freaked out. This isn't that big of a deal."

Rory angrily swiped under her cheek, destroying would-be evidence of an escaped tear. "Obviously it isn't to you, but it is to me. I mean, I don't think you even understand how big of a deal it is. I risked so much to even be here like this. I already had something that was good, and perfect, and I threw it all away for—I mean, for what, even? I'm a complete moron. I threw everything I had away for this once chance with you. I decided to, for once—for the first time— take that chance, that risk, and go against what people said and what I'd always done and just follow my gut. But guess what? I ended up falling flat on my face. Maybe this is why I've always taken the safer route. Because it's safe. And now where am I? I've broken up with my perfect, loving, amazing boyfriend for some guy who's only fooling around." She shook her head at her own stupidity. "What's happened to me? When did I turn into this stupid, foolish girl with stars in her eyes and a perfect happy ending to everything in her head? I never even thought it over, I just… your stupid leather jacket and your eyes, they turned me into someone else. Some puppy-loving girly dreamer. And that's not me! I would never throw everything away for someone who didn't even care about me!"

"Rory, stop," said Jess, desperate to stop her ranting and get through to her. "That's not me—I'm different." But Rory's will was set in stone; she shook her head and pushed him away.

"No! I'm through with this, with you and your ridiculous rebel yell," she said determinedly, stepping back from him. "I'm through being star struck by it. You're nothing but a chain-smoking wanna-be James Dean who's going nowhere in life who's just happened to have read a lot of books. You're not special. You're not _different_. You're just a bum," she spat angrily at him. "And I don't know why I tried to convince myself otherwise."

"Hey, I don't deserve that," growled Jess back, his own blood starting to boil. "And I don't know what's so special about you either. You're just a stuck-up princess with her nose in the air thinking everyone's below her, and you can't deal with it if someone won't do everything you say."

"Oh, I'm sure!" she laughed back. "You know what, I was stupid to think being with you would be a good thing. I already _had_ a good thing. The textbook definition of a good thing. I don't know why I looked beyond it."

"You know why?" said Jess, moving in and locking his steely gaze on hers. "You know what's wrong with you? You're scared. You're scared of change, you're scared of going against the grain and being with me because you think it's not right, _your_ definition of right and Star's Hollow's definition of right. And you go on and on about how you want to travel and see the world but really, you're scared shitless of anything outside your stupid oppressive town, and that includes me. You took one step out of your fuckin' comfort zone for me and then you got cold feet. But Princess, sometimes you've got to take chances to live; that's just the way it is. And you can't just go running back to your mommy when you don't know if everything's going to work out. You just have to trust it."

Rory stared at him coldly, their stony gazes cracking and colliding. "I think we're just too different for this to work out," she said, her voice bubbling with spite. "We're both too stubborn."

"No, Princess, the real problem is that we're really both the same and you're scared to admit it," said Jess. "You know we could be perfect for each other. But you're just too scared to take that chance. You pretend you're taking a chance by breaking up with your cardboard boyfriend, and then you expect me to just take the reins from there and protect you from everyone else. Well, Rory, if you're going to change then you have to commit to it. You can't be half-assed about it, or this is where we end up. You gotta take responsibilities for your actions, Princess, and don't try to hide from your mother and your town. Being with me is making a choice. But you're still stuck in your glory days of innocence, you scampering in fields holding hands with your mother and Dean and doing God knows what. You're scared that if you leave that, you can't ever get it back. But that's no way to live your life. You're just gonna end up bitter and disappointed and thinking about all the chances you missed in your life. Do you really want to go through life taking the easy way out? Never knowing what could have happened if you just took that risk, if you'd stood up for what you wanted and not let other people squash you back down willingly? Princess, that's no way to live. But I think that's where you're headed."

"Fuck you," she said hollowly, her voice low, her tone even. "I wish I'd never met you, I really do. You just ruin things for me."

"Too late, Princess," he smirked, walking backwards towards the exit as he spoke. "Now that you know what's outside the castle gates you'll never be content with what you have. So you go back to your dolt Prince Dean and live a royally boring life. It won't make you happy. I know you more than you think I do, Rory. I really do. You want the world. But you don't want it enough to leave what's safe."

"I hate you," she growled bitterly, the sticky sheen of her wet face betraying her controlled demeanor.

"No, Princess, you just hate that I shook up your world and showed what you could have if you'd ever take a chance. And you hate that you also kind of love me for it."

"Fuck you!" she bellowed, her voice cracking. She covered her face with her hand and sobbed, feeling dirty, exposed. "Fuck you. Get out of my sight."

"As you wish, Princess," he said with a mocking bow, turning and disappearing through the door.

"You don't know me at all!" she called back at him after a moment, desperate to prove him wrong.

"I know you too damn well!" he returned spitefully from down the hall. Distantly, she heard crashing footsteps and then the echo of a slammed door.

Rory sank to the floor by the imposing boiler and bit her wrist, stifling her sobs, her thin body shaking. She rocked back and forth and her head sank into her knees, her eyes wetting the tights and tears lingering between the elastic strands. Forehead against the itchy fabric, she closed her eyes much too tightly, willing him away from her thoughts and from her life, the rough clanking of the machines and the smoky smells failing to drown him out.

* * *

Lorelai turned to Luke. "Don't look at me like that," she said. 

Luke sighed. "Lorelai, what do you expect? Him? _Him?_ Staying in your house?"

"It's not the best timing, I'll admit…"

He ran a hand to the back of his neck and shook his head. "Obviously you don't want what we have to go any further. Maybe it's good timing for him to come; you can move right along."

Lorelai's heart jumped; this was exactly what she didn't want. Her insecurities were driving him away! "Luke, stop," she said, pulling his arm down and clamping her fingers onto his wrist. "I do have some… reservations, yes." Luke rolled his eyes and she held his wrist tighter. "But I don't want you to think that I don't want this. I do." He wasn't looking at her. She shook his arm and looked closer into his eyes. "I do," she insisted sincerely. "I just need time to think, to get all my thoughts straightened out. What we did this afternoon—yeah, I was upset about that. We shouldn't have done that; I still think we shouldn't have done it. Besides the obvious reason of Rory's debate, we hadn't actually sorted any of our feelings out yet. And I know it was my fault—I let my impulses get the better of me… again," she added sourly. "Story of our relationship. And I did get too angry with you afterwards. But I think you need to know that I probably wouldn't have felt the need to jump you if I had known what you were thinking, because I was scared you didn't want it and that'd I'd never get my chance. So we both do have some blame in this. And basically this all boils down to the fact that we do need to talk about what we want. But first off I need to know if we're on the same page here or if I've just made the most embarrassing speech of my life." Lorelai stepped back with a very nervous, jumpy feeling in her chest. God, she had spent years fighting against something like that and then she'd just let it out so calmly. Was she insane? Oh God, she needed to run, didn't she? She bent down and grabbed her coat. "Okay… so I'll just…"

Luke leaned down and captured her lips in a small kiss. He pulled back to find her frozen in place. "Same page," he said, nodding, the corner of his lips pulling into a little smile. "Same page." He turned his back and began to walk up the aisle, shoulders back. "See you tomorrow," he called back over his shoulder. Lorelai watched him with awe, and a little smile appeared on her face too. She shook her head as he reached the doors.

"Hey, what about Jess?" she called, remembering suddenly.

"He knows where the bus stop is," answered Luke without turning. Lorelai smiled widely, the first real smile in a few days. Huh… so it was really that easy? Still smiling, she slung her purse over her shoulder and went backstage in search of Rory.

* * *

"Rory?" 

Rory jerked her head up, hearing her mother calling cheerfully. She leapt up and wiped her face hurriedly, trying to collect herself and dispose of the evidence of her massive blowup with Jess, still knowing all the while that her mother would know because, well, she was her mother. _Damn._

"Rory?" said Lorelai, entering the room she was in. "I need to talk to you about something. Why is it so dark in here? Oh- God, Rory, what happened to you?"

Rory sniffed and collected her backpack from the table, pushing past her mother with it. "I'm fine," she said.

"Bullshit," said Lorelai evenly, grabbing her arm. "I know when my daughter's upset. Now we could spend hours on 'yes you are-no I'm not' or you could just tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing," she said, shaking her head, flinging her Jess-demons away. "Just something that… it's nothing. I don't want to talk about it, I'll be fine if we just forget it." She stared her mother in the eye, daring her to object.

Lorelai nodded reluctantly; obviously she needed some time. "Okay. We won't talk about it now." She slung her arm around Rory's shoulder as they began to walk out.

"So you wanted to talk to me about something?" said Rory.

Lorelai bit her lip. "Uh, yeah- two things actually. One is kind of okay and one is kind of… not."

"Give me the kind of not one first."

Lorelai shook her head. "No, I think I'll do the kind of okay one first."

"Why?"

"Because if we do it the other way, I don't think we'll even get to the kind of okay one."

Rory narrowed her eyes at her mother. "I'm kind of scared."

"It's not that bad, it's just… well, I'll give you the first one first." Rory nodded. "Your father was here; I just talked to him. He said he enjoyed the debate very much." _In less words,_ thought Lorelai, a little pissed that she felt the need to lie about this kind of stuff for Chris. He _should_ be enjoying Rory's long and boring debate. She would have. "And he wanted to spend some time with you, so he's going to be staying at the house for a couple days."

"That's cool," said Rory, nodding to herself. "Are you sure you're okay with it, though?"

Lorelai nodded emphatically. "Yeah! Oh, yeah!" Now was not the time to go over her feelings on this; Rory would hate her enough in a few seconds.

Rory eyed her mother. "And the kind of not news?"

Lorelai took a deep breath and stopped her walk, turning to Rory. "Okay, before I begin, I just want you to know that I love you very much and that if my actions every end up hurting you it is completely unintentional and I proceed to kick myself for months afterwards."

"I know all this, Mom, I don't need a disclaimer. What did you do?"

"Okay, well… I was at the vending machine and Luke came over and wanted to talk. We had a while before the debate started, and we obviously needed to talk, so we went into an empty classroom and started to talk. With me so far? Luke and me. Just talking."

"Yes. I've grasped that there was talking happening."

"That's why you got into Chilton, honey. So… Luke and I were talking…"

"Yes."

"…and we were yelling and stuff, and then he was like 'tell me how you feel' and I really like his nose so I told him and then we were kissing and then I couldn't even think because the desk…"

"Oh! KAY! Mother!" interrupted Rory, repulsed. "Do not, I repeat do _not_ go any further if you do not want me emancipate myself from you right now!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll spare you the details."

"Thank God!" She shook her head. "But Mom, I don't care that you and Luke did… whatever came after the word desk." She suddenly looked horrified. "Oh, God, whose desk?"

"Mr. Lambert," winced Lorelai.

"He's my history teacher!" said Rory.

"I'm sorry!" said Lorelai.

"But I mean… location aside… why do you think I'd be mad you and Luke… desked it?"

"Because it gets worse."

"Oh. No."

Lorelai made a face and said in a breath, "We missed your debate."

Rory looked at her still, not quite processing. She turned her head slightly, as if she couldn't exactly hear what Lorelai had said. "What?"

"We didn't mean to; it just happened. I mean, we looked at the clock and it was already so late and we had been so distracted… I swear, babe, I feel horrible about it, just horrible. I was so looking forward to your debate and then I just… me and my stupid hormones and his stupid nose kind of banded together and just…"

"Why do you keep mentioning a nose?" said Rory bewilderedly.

"Honey…"

"I can't believe you missed my debate," said Rory. "For… sex on my teacher's desk."

"I know you're mad," said Lorelai falteringly.

"Well…yeah!" said Rory. "You missed my debate and left Dad and Jess all alone to bond and do God knows what while you ran off with Luke! Talk about improper timing, Mom. Seriously, couldn't you have controlled yourself for just one hour?"

"Babe, I can't even believe myself, I swear."

"Mom, don't even. You and Luke aren't even dating… you just took time off during my debate to screw the diner guy? What, the debate not thrilling enough for you? You needed a little stimulation to pass the time?"

"Hey!" said Lorelai, shocked. "I know what I did was wrong and I'm apologizing out of my ass for it. But you're taking this a little too far."

"I don't think so! You obviously find your little… I don't know, fuck-buddy sessions with Luke more important than me," snapped Rory, her mother's revelation a very unwelcome burden on her already frazzled psyche.

"Excuse me?" gaped Lorelai, livid. "That's it. That is not okay, Rory. You do not get to pass judgment on my relationship with Luke; you know nothing about it."

"Oh yeah? I know that you're repeatedly hooking up with him in one way or another with no attachment or plans for the future. Real smart, Mom, way to strengthen your friendship."

"You're one to talk!" snapped back Lorelai. "Just what do you think you're doing with Jess? Not the exact same thing?"

"No!" bellowed Rory. "Do not talk to me about Jess, okay? It's over with me and him. He's a jerk. But I still never would have missed something that meant a lot to you to go off with him. That's just too low."

"Look, Rory, I know I'm the ass in this; I was wrong, I was the idiot. But I thought you'd at least understand. And look, Luke and I aren't just 'fuck-buddies,' as you so eloquently put it. We're starting to talk about where we are… we're actually being adults and sorting it out. You can't just expect this thing with you and Jess to sort itself out too; you guys have to talk about it. And what about Dean? What have you done about him?"

"I broke up with Dean, okay?" yelled Rory, silencing Lorelai suddenly. "I broke up with him. He and I are over."

"You broke up with Dean so you could be with Jess?" said Lorelai with disbelief.

"Well… no… yes… I don't know!" she snapped. "I thought I might have… and then… Jess and I, we got into a huge fight, right before you came to get me… and now I don't know what to do. I mean, he said all these things… and I don't know whether to get pissed off or to really think… I mean, could anything he said be true? He's making me question everything about myself. Am I really scared to change? Or am I just being sensible?" Rory's anger had deflated as quickly as it had arisen. "I mean, I was always the only thing I knew I could trust no matter what happened, and now…" She shook her head. "I'm not sure what's real and what isn't anymore."

Lorelai watched her daughter sadly. "I hate seeing you like this, babe." She slid a hand up her daughter's arm.

"Me too," she said hollowly. "Can we just go home, mom?"

Arms snaked around shoulders and waists as they continued walking. "Yeah, sweets."

Rory sighed, her breath ruffling her mussed hair. "I hate boys. Let's join a boy-free cult."

"Okay. As long as I can bring Luke."

Rory smiled half-heartedly at her mother. Lorelai hugged her daughter closer to her. "Let's go home… watch a movie, eat too much junk food, and rail on boys until we fall into a sugar-induced coma."

"The perfect girl's night," agreed Rory. "Of course, Dad will be there."

"Oh yeah. But he's secretly a girl at heart."

Rory grinned. "Girls night it is, then."

And for a few hours, there was peace.

* * *

_Sorry about that majorly angsty Jess and Rory scene. I don't know where that came from. Oh wait… I do. I had just watched The Breakfast Club again. Ouch. Never doing that again right before I write. My apologies. Oh but… -sigh- Bender. I think Jess channeled Bender in this chapter._

_So, once again, much fire-hazardous cake and warbling songs to **Jombles**. And a fond farewell to you all, I will think of you as I am in England, hearing my accent come back thicker and thicker. I'm sure I can find a kinky British lad for **pOnDeReSqUe** also. Don't forget about me now, I'll be back with more in a month._

_**Next chapter... **I don't know. Why are you asking me? I write this as I go along. But in my mind, I anticipate an interesting breakfast at Luke's the next day where things get a touch out of hand for all involved._


	9. The Shoes and Socks Chapter

_It has been exactly a YEAR, to the day, since my last update._

_Pretty freakin' weird. But I think you all knew, in your heart of hearts, that one day I'd be a-coming back to you. Out of guilt if nothing else…_

_HELLO!!#$& Excitement!_

_Okay, let's get down to it. Gilmore Girls depressed me and robbed me of my inspiration. Then life took over and next thing I know it's been a year. The reason I've returned? The very date itself: July 15__th__, Jombles' birthday, the same day I updated for a year ago! She sort of subtly pouted at me and told me it's been a tradition for her to get this as a birthday present from me and she sure hoped that tradition would continue…. Needless to say I couldn't resist the cyber puppy dog eyes Jombles threw at me and I had to finish this baby, which I'd been chipping away at without enthusiasm for… oh, say a YEAR? Anyway, even though I'm sort of lacking in inspiration/interest in the whole fanfiction thing I'm kind of excited at the prospect of being back. What can I say! I MISSED YOU! You the reader are so loveable I just can't leave you!_

_So not as to make this ridiculously long and piss off all my old arch nemeses, I shall cut it short and bring you the 9__th__ installment of this unknown number of part series. Oh…and Jombles? Happy birthday and you better freakin' appreciate this!_

_Okay, and no shoutouts for this chapter because seriously: any of you remember what you wrote? I'd be a little perturbed if you did._

_On with the seriously delayed show!_

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Nine Ladies Dancing: The Shoes and Socks Chapter

* * *

"Ho-ho?" questioned Lorelai politely, sitting cross-legged on the rug and offering the aforementioned snack to her daughter sprawled across the sofa. Rory nodded energetically and plucked a chocolatey piece of heaven from the box waving in front of her.

"Mm-hm," she said, stuffing it in her mouth all at once with relish. Lorelai licked the delicious MSG-enhanced neon cheesy powder off the fingers of her other hand and increased the volume of the movie with her elbow.

"Heath Ledger is _God_," Lorelai stated factually. "And with an awesome accent and a paintball gun, he's basically the whole Holy Trinity."

"I wanna romp in hay covered in paint with him," said Rory. "That's all I have to say on the matter."

"It's completely unrealistic," drawled Chris from the armchair. "No one runs around giggling playing paintball. Or shoots them at such close range. It's freakin' painful, not romantic."

Lorelai and Rory both turned and stared at him incredulously. "No, Chris, that is _not_ how it works," Lorelai said firmly. "You begged us to be let into girls' night—and we did it, even though it is _strongly_ against regulations! Acting like that will get you uninvited. It's positive comments _only_ on Heath's hotness, Julia Stiles' awesomeness, and connections to Shakespeare if you're Rory and can never stop being all schooly."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. He cleared his throat at the expectant look from Rory and said in a wavery falsetto voice, "And like, oh my God, Heath is a total studmuffin!"

Lorelai nodded and Rory giggled. "Wow. Thanks Dad."e

As Chris slipped back into his critical movie-watching gaze, keeping his severely unnecessary comments to himself, Lorelai pulled on her daughter's arm dangling over the side of the sofa. "Hey," she said softly. Her daughter's inquisitive eyes and raised eyebrows appeared over the curve of the lumpy sofa. "You feeling better yet?"

Rory smiled half-heartedly. "You know. Better than this afternoon, but not quite 100 yet."

"I get that," said Lorelai, rubbing her knuckle on her daughter's sleeve sympathetically.

"And another dose of Heath might get me closer…you thinking what I'm thinking for the next movie in our line up?"

"A Knight's Tale," finished Lorelai wisely, wrapping her blanket tighter around her. "You got it, babe."

With a smile and a nod, Rory sunk back into the sofa, pulling her blanket up over her mouth to disguise the little pout that couldn't help but make its way across her face.

* * *

"Headache," announced Lorelai, awakening Rory with a jolt to her bed. "I need coffee."

"Did you just call me Headache?" mumbled Rory, appearing disheveled from within the covers.

"_No_, I'm saying I have one. But if you don't get up and accompany me to my place of coffee supplication, you will be the headache. Is supplication a word?"

"Real word, wrong context," she explained with a croak, diving back under her covers. Lorelai frowned and yanked at the fabric.

"No, no, not back to sleep! Up!"

"Early!" pouted Rory, tugging the covers back over her head vehemently.

"Come on, girlie!" crowed Lorelai, upping the obnoxious factor to jar Rory into consciousness. "The day won't wait!"

"Day must wait," she threatened, wrestling the covers back from her mother's hands.

"Rory, it's almost eleven," said her mother, bouncing onto her bed. "My stomach needs sustenance."

At this Rory's head popped out. "And the three horses we ate last night were…?"

"Merely a snack," said Lorelai, waving away the question. Suddenly Christopher appeared in the open door, swinging around the frame with his arms outstretched.

"Good maw-ning! Good maw-ning!" he bellowed in a bad British accent. "We dawnced the whole night through, good mawning, good mawning to you!"

"Up and at 'em, I see," said Lorelai pleasantly. "Rory, looks like you're the only one all sleepy and whatnot."

Rory raised an eyebrow at this strange behavior. "Where is all this unusual chipperty-ness coming from?"

"Stop making up words and start getting dressed, young lady, because I am in need of coffee to stop the pounding lost somewhere in the back of my head," ordered Chris, executing a twirl.

"I don't get it," said Rory, looking at her mother.

"This is Chris's way of dealing with 'wild nights,' a.k.a. too much junky stuff," said Lorelai conspiratorially. "He goes off on this weird sugar high for about half an hour the next morning and then just crashes."

"Coffee does sound good," admitted Rory, deciding it was better not to comment on the very strange news her mother had just shared.

"To Luke's?" questioned Chris. Lorelai and Rory both quickly looked at one another and then at Christopher.

"Luke's?" asked Lorelai. "Why Luke's?"

Chris shrugged. "I thought you guys went there every day. And you're friends with Luke and Jess, right?"

Another glance. "Yeah, friends," said Rory warily. Friends was definitely not a good description for her and Jess at the moment, or even Luke and Lorelai, come to think of it.

"Well, let's go. I could use an omelette right about now."

"Why don't we just stay in and make coffee?" said Lorelai casually.

"I don't think you two serve omelettes," he chuckled, oblivious to the awkward tension. "Come on, girls, it'll be fun."

"How about Weston's?" she inquired, nodding her head emphatically as if to emphasize how brilliant a breakfast at Weston's would be.

"But you two are always going on about Luke's constantly, and I've always wanted to go there, check it out—see if its good enough for you," he teased.

Lorelai made a face and a hissing noise. "Well, it's…"

"No buts!" he interrupted. "I'm feeling the crash creeping in; I need to fuel up. We're leaving in fifteen. Move, cadets!"

He crashed out the door, leaving Lorelai and Rory to stare at one another.

"I didn't say 'but,'" said Lorelai slowly.

"Since when does he get to come in all army-sergeant on us?" said Rory irritably. This was definitely not helping her mood for the day. Her head hurt, her stomach hurt, and she had been planning to avoid Jess for the next twelve years or so. This didn't fit into that anywhere.

Lorelai sighed. "I'm with you on that one, babe. But cheer up, he won't be here for long. And look, maybe he'll be like—like a buffer for us, between us and the men. Hey? It'll be fine. Come on, get up. Get dressed."

Rory grimaced sourly and looked out the window to see Chris turning cartwheels on the front lawn and whooping. "Wow. You weren't kidding."

"I wish I was," said Lorelai with a sigh, patting her daughter's bed and rising. "I'm going to go find shoes. I'll be down in ten."

Lorelai padded out of the room, leaving Rory sitting cross-legged in her bed pouting. She rose, stretching her long arms and rifling through her underwear drawer half-heartedly. Peering out the window at her gymnastic father's antics, she yanked the curtains closed violently. Stupid boys.

* * *

Upstairs Lorelai too closed her curtains on the image of Christopher cavorting around her garden and stood in front of her closet, staring down at her shoes but not really seeing them.

Because she was definitely worried about Rory, and her thing. You know. She was her mother. She knew Jess' words had really shaken Rory up, probably made her say some things she was now regretting but too proud to apologize for. And really—but no matter how much of a mother she was, she was still a girl, and that was why she couldn't get _her_ thing with Luke out of her head.

She wasn't used to things being at a good place. It almost unnerved her, knowing that she liked Luke and Luke liked her and they were both on that same page of liking one another. It made her want to not stop grinning but also throw up a little at the same time. Bizarre was the word.

And for some reason, because of this, she could just not choose a pair of shoes. She felt like one wrong step would uproot all the goodness and the rightness and whatever the hell else happened in _good things_. Like the slingback pumps would manufacture her cankles and Luke would be disgusted. Or the flats were too flat, the heels were too high, and the ones in between not close enough to either. Sandals too summery and boots too wintery left her sitting on her bed in bare feet picking at her toenail polish, unable to choose.

Because what scared her the most was the fact she cared so much. That was what was really different.

* * *

She admitted it. She had overreacted. Rory tugged on the laces of her sneakers while she admitted this to herself. Jess' words had completely spun her around, and she had reacted so fiercely from the fear that he was right.

He knew her a little too well for her own good.

She was almost embarrassed at the scene she had made, remembering the things she had said and cringing a little. That wasn't her. At all. The idea that he could affect her that much made her uncomfortable, unsure how to act around him. She didn't like giving anyone that much power over her actions and her personal chosen way of dealing with it was going to be a truckload of avoidance. Trust her dad to screw all that up. She tugged harder and her foot silently protested back at its cramped position within the poor shoe, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She didn't like that he was back. That was how she knew she really had changed. Sometimes when she looked at Chris she sort of wanted to curl up her lip as she studied him, not impressed with what she saw. Her childhood idolization had evaporated. Sure, he wasn't mean or distasteful; he just…wasn't that great. Bumming around on their couch and overstaying his welcome were his classic maneuvers, and she definitely wasn't gonna take it if he pulled another "Lor, we've never been in the same place at the same time" come-on stuff. That childhood fantasty she'd had of the two of them together had lost the magic, presenting instead only something childish and doomed to fail.

She surveyed her now fully-dressed self in the mirror with an irritable pout. Best get what was inevitable over with…

* * *

"Fucking shoes!" said Lorelai, her stare beating down at the wretched things, mocking her from her floor.

There was a knock at the door. "Ready?" called Rory plaintively, as if she was kind of hoping the answer would be no.

"Uhh... uhm, yes, pretty much almost, I'm just nearing a certain point in the dressing…concept. Getting close to a point where the end is beginning to be in sight. Certain things have been achieved while others have not but are readily approaching in the very near future…" Lorelai informed wildly, head stuck in closet as she angrily waded through the shoes, batting pairs away with more force than warranted.

"Ooo-kay," said Rory mildly, retreating back down the stairs.

These shoes were out to get her. These shoes had an agenda. She sat cross-legged before her enemy with a kind of frenzied hopelessness.

"You are _my_ shoes," she said sternly. "It is not the other way around. I control _you_. You don't have any power over me. I'm picking a pair of shoes. And I'm going to pick then out and wear them and that is what I will wear. And you will have no problems with that."

The shoes sat in frozen submission as she reached past them half-blindly and came up with a pair of dark brown ankle boots.

"The decision has been made," she called victoriously to her defeated army of shoes. "Humans 1, Shoes 0. Suck on that while you sit in my closet for the rest of your lives."

She closed the doors on the fiends and started to dress.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Lorelai arrived downstairs to her daughter flicking through a Cosmo from the nineties, its cover half-stained from a coffee cup accident. Chris came in from the kitchen, acting like a relatively normal human being now. "Ready?" he said, already on his way to the door.

The girls slowly followed him with the air of a march of chained prisoners on the way to certain death.

* * *

Rory and Lorelai unconsciously stopped short as they neared Luke's, their footsteps slowing with every move.

"Come on, ladies, the good tables won't wait." He grinned back at them naively. "Hey, I'm excited about this!" He pushed open the door ('last chance for escape gone there' flashed through Rory's mind) and entered.

Rory and Lorelai exchanged a look like that of warriors going into battle before following Chris through the glass door.

* * *

There was no earth-shattering natural disaster or Zeus-catapulted thunderbolts when they entered. The diner didn't pause and gape at them as they entered the door, forks in mid-air. Business went on as usual in the busy world within Luke's diner and the three of them managed to grab a table without being noticed.

"Oh my _god_," uttered Lorelai suddenly after a few moments. "I'm at a table. No one can see my shoes."

Rory and Chris just sort of looked at her for a second. "Yeah," affirmed Rory.

Lorelai slumped down in her seat, elbow on the table and head in hand. "Wow. Best moment ever for me."

Rory froze, suddenly seeing Jess appear from behind the curtain, sporting a little apron and a pencil behind his ear that, under normal circumstances, would have found her laughing non-stop and mocking him between breaths. His eyes caught hers and she quickly cast them down, face burning until she felt his shadow over her and the mantra in her head was wildly going 'shitshitshitshit_shit!_' non-stop, so much so that she almost didn't hear his first words. Oh God…here it came…

"Coffee anyone?" he postulated. He had the pot in hand and, without responses, poured three mugs out for the table. Chris grinned at him.

"Hey, pal," he said to his newly-founded friend.

"Hey, buddy!" simpered Jess back with an overdose of sincerity, throwing Chris a little wave before exiting to another table.

"Nice kid," said Chris easily, pouring cream into his coffee and stirring it absentmindedly.

Rory let out a breath through her nose. Okay…she wasn't really sure what she had been expecting to happen. They were in the middle of the diner, as it were. She watched his back, knowing she should be feeling relief but was instead feeling a twinge of disappointment.

Next it was Lorelai's turn to have her stomach drop to her ankles as she saw Luke approaching. Her face wildly danced in the effort to hold back her nervous smile and ended up looking like she was having a slight mouth-only seizure.

"You guys need more time to order?" he said, his eyes locked on Lorelai's.

"Boy, you guys move fast around here!" said Chris. At this Lorelai choked a little on her coffee. "I didn't get a chance to look at the menu… what do you guys recommend? What's good?"

"Everything here," said Lorelai, batting her eyelashes down for a break in the giggly teenage staring that was transpiring between her and Luke.

"Hmm…girls, do you mind if we wait a few more minutes? Luke?"

"Sounds perfect," he said with a grin, nodding and backing away still facing the table before turning to go behind the counter.

"Sounds _perfect_," teased Rory under her breath to Lorelai who rewarded her with a sharp stamp on her foot. "Ow!" She leaned back in her chair to survey the damage and suddenly felt her head rammed into by something warm and impatient.

"Sorry about that," said Jess, omelette and bacon in one hand as he placed the other on her shoulder.

Rory shook her head nervously. "Oh, God, no, it's fine. That was all me- stupid! Doy!" she said, batting herself on the side of the head. "Yeah, no, I'm totally fine. Really, _I'm_ sorry, for this, for leaning back and now the delay in serving the omelette and in general, I'm sorry…" Her breath suddenly petered out here, words choking up in her throat with no release like a cars rear-ending one another on a freeway. She suddenly got that repeated vision in her head from the animated Goofy driving school video, all the rectangles on the road screeching and crashing into one another, twenty at a time, the result of every possible traffic mistake.

"That's alright," he said calmly, nodding at her before continuing on his way to deliver the omelette. Rory gaped after him, unnerved by his tranquility.

She looked up and laughed, shaking it off. "What a klutz I am!" she exclaimed good-naturedly to her table. Chris' face was slightly bewildered but still grinning. Lorelai's face was a mixture of quiet sympathy and the overwhelming urge to laugh her guts out at her daughter's awkward motor mouth.

Chris surveyed the menu with the focus of an art aficionado before a painting, lips pursed. "It all looks good, but I keep coming back to the omelette. Always trust your instincts," he said as he closed the menu, as if imparting grave wisdom upon the girls. "You two know what you want?"

"Something that's not on the menu," sung Rory mockingly in her mother's ear, her voice low.

"I could say the same for you!" she hissed back.

"Touché," she grumbled back just as Luke reappeared at the table.

"Ready yet?" he said, standing in his wide-legged order-taking pose, pad and pencil in hand.

"Yeah, I'll have an omelette with bacon, cheddar, and red peppers," said Chris. "And you two?"

"A…waffle," said Lorelai, smiling up brilliantly at Luke, no longer able to contain the grin. "With whipped cream. And blueberries. On top, not inside."

Luke wrote the order down without looking at the paper, his writing widely sprawling upwards. "Uh-huh. Got it. And Rory?"

"Donuts. A chocolate and a sprinkle. And hashbrowns."

"Alright. Alright, coming up." His eyes locked with Lorelai's, he backed up and banged into Miss Patty's table behind him, shaking the water glasses. "Jeez. Sorry about that…okay. All good there…" After vainly attempting to wipe up an ice cube with his shirt sleeve, Luke fled and quickly retreated into the kitchen. "Stupid…" he growled to himself, hitting himself in the forehead with a spatula angrily.

Rory was too immersed in her own thoughts to notice her mother and Luke's spazz-fest '02. She was watching Jess trifle around the diner, pouring coffee and fulfilling trivial napkin-related requests. His movements were so fluid, his tone low and uninterested: usual Jess, grudgingly performing waiter tasks for his minimal pay. Not a hint of anything in his demeanor, not a sign of discomfort in his eye as his gaze glanced over hers…

"Refill?" he questioned, appearing at their table with a coffee pot and a semi-inquisitive gaze.

"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Rory, leaping up from her chair and catapulting it backwards. "Okay? Okay?! Enough! I get it! I'm sorry! Just enough of all the hinting and the silence and the eyes and the freakin' coffee! I'm sorry! You right, me wrong! God! How many times do I have to say it to get through to you?!? I'm sorry for how I acted! Now could you just drop this act?"

_Ah, there's that lost awkward silence,_ thought Rory as she gazed around at the diner and the dozens of wide eyes gaping back at her. Someone dropped a spoon. Unable to restrain herself, Lorelai snorted into her coffee cup. Jess harrumphed awkwardly and stared at Rory.

Rory gulped down a mouthful of empty air. "Okay…" she muttered lowly, bending down. "I'm just going to pick up this chair…and then sit back down." She placed the chair on all four legs and slowly sunk back down onto it. Her face was bright red.

"Rory…" he murmured quietly. "Forget about it, just forget about it."

"I feel terrible, Jess, and I want to apologize before you just start freezing me out," she said.

"This isn't the place, Rory."

"Then where is the place? Can't you let me explain? You had me pinned so right that it scared me. I didn't want you to be right, but you were. And the sweeter you were to me, the more I tried to deny how I felt about you, cause I knew you'd hurt me and I didn't want to let myself get too close to you. And when that went wrong, I couldn't handle it. I thought that it would hurt less if I pushed you away, but I was so wrong."

"Wait, wait a second—" A new voice broke in: Chris. "What's going on here? What have you been doing to my daughter?"

Jess immediately broke down into defensive position, shoulders back and hands up with palms forward. "Hey man, I didn't do anything—"

"Chris, Chris, it's nothing, it's just a little teenage drama," murmured Lorelai, holding his wrist back.

"So wait a second, this kid here has been breaking my daughter's heart and I don't have a clue?"

"He hasn't broken her heart, Chris; don't overreact. They're young, they're just…"

"So it's true!" Suddenly Chris was on his feet in his powerful-man stance, arms wide and fists clenched. "You and my daughter, huh? Think about mentioning that to me yesterday at all, _buddy_?"

"Hey, hey, back off, man," said Jess, stepping back. "I haven't done anything…"

"Dad, please, stop it," said Rory, grabbing at his sleeve. "Jess and I are just—"

"Whatever you and Jess _are_, I should have known about it! God, I can't believe this. How can you keep me so out of the loop, Lorelai? I deserve to have a right to know what's going on in my daughter's life!"

Lorelai laughed at that one. "I'm keeping you out of the loop, Chris? You keep yourself out of the loop! I'm not gonna call you up every second of the day to tell you Rory's every move if you don't even have the foresight to give us a call or drop by of your _own_ accord, without an ulterior motive or—"

"Hey. hey, what's going on in here?" entered Luke suddenly, appearing from the kitchen, his voice raised.

"You're deliberately keeping me out of her life!" bellowed Chris.

"Can you calm down?" said Luke loudly, bringing a hand to Chris's elbow. "You're scaring my customers."

Chris shrugged Luke off. "This is ridiculous—I have a right to be involved in my own daughter's comings and goings, I have to be able to decide whether some guy's good enough for her or he's just gonna lead her down the wrong path. You're shutting me out here!"

"I'm not shutting you out, Chris! When's the last time you called us just to talk? When's the last time you sent an email without a 'quick favor, Lore' added to it somewhere? When has a visit from you been just _because_ and not because 'you were in the area for work' or whatever you say to get a couple free nights on our couch?"

"I have my own life, Lore!" cried Chris. "I don't have time to spend every second on the phone calling you asking about whatever the hell kinds of socks Rory is wearing today!"

"Then I suggest you quit bitching!" said Lorelai. "You don't _get_ any rights if you won't accept any responsibilities for them! It's a two -way street, Chris! You _have_ to care about what kinds of socks your daughter is wearing! It's imperative! And how are you supposed to know unless you actually call and demand the information?"

"I don't know what the socks are supposed to be representing in your little metaphor here, but—" seethed Chris.

"Hey!" bellowed Luke. "That is _enough_ from you! This is my diner and I won't have you acting like a complete ass in it!

"Oh yeah? You wanna get involved in this?"

"Chris, _please_," said Lorelai exasperated. "Don't drag Luke into this."

Chris laughed. "With all the knowledge I'm getting, I figure the next thing I'll hear is that _you_ and _Luke_ are getting together." He snorted stupidly at this, but the smirk was wiped off his face as he saw the awkward silence emanating from both parties. "You're kidding, right?"

"_Are_ you kidding?" questioned Miss Patty readily from the nearby table. She and Babette were all attentive, ears pricked up like hungry dogs.

Lorelai tried to speak but just came out with a bunch of incredulous stuttering noises.

"You're kidding me! Oh, this is _rich_, Lore!" cried Chris. "All this time I'm being lied to! And I thought you and were trying to give what we had another chance!"

"Oh, no Chris, do not even say that," said Lorelai, suddenly finding her words (and finding they were very angry ones). "Don't even go there, because we both know that ship has passed and it's in Antarctica somewhere crashed on the ice with all the passengers fleeing for their lives and leaving their luggage littered everywhere with socks and… seriously, that wouldn't be an option even if Luke and I _weren't_—"

"So you are!" crowed Babette, clapping her hands with glee. "Oh glory, what a day! It finally happened, sugar! Lorelai, I could not be more happy for you."

"Congratulations, Lorelai," piped up Kirk from another table. "I suppose you and I were never really meant to be. Don't spend your nights worrying about what we could have had, though…Luke is a fine match for you." He blew his nose loudly into a napkin. "Just a slight cold I may have for the next few weeks," he explained congestedly.

"I'm so sorry," Jess was whispering to Rory, hands clasped in hers.

"No, trust me, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she retorted. "I was so mean."

"_I _was mean," he corrected. "This is on me."

"It's on _us_," she said, grinning at him.

"Get your damn hands off my daughter!" shrieked Chris.

"No Jess—do whatever the hell you want. Chris is not involved. Put your damn hands _back_ on my daughter, Jess!"

"You can't tell him what to do! You've got some kind of freaking sock fetish and that's not right!"

"So much drama we were unaware of, Patty! How could we have let this slip?"

"The two most important romantic events this town has been waiting for and we were oblivious! I'm ashamed to call myself the town busybody."

"Seriously, I'm fine. Just a cold. Maybe it's some sort of allergy. Don't mind the tears, it's all part of the process…these are tears of _joy_…"

"Someone give the man a damn _sock_ to blow his nose on, huh? Lorelai, how many do you have on you at the moment? Twenty? Forty?"

"Wait a second, where did we exactly land on the whole Luke-and-Lorelai together thing? Cause I was eating and it slipped through," remarked an unknown tourist from the corner table munching on a piece of toast.

The squabbling swelled, tumultuous and unintelligible as the diner became more and more chaotic. Luke knuckled his fists, his face growing purple as the noise accosted him from all sides. "Can everyone here, for once in their lives, just _SHUT THE HELL UP_?" he roared, the magnitude of his voice seeming to shake the glasses and tables.

That did the trick. They all looked up at him with looks of slight fear, slight anger, slight amusement, or a mixture of the three. He breathed heavily. "This ends _now_. All of you _out!_"

They began to protest and grumble. "Ah, c'mon Luke!" cried Babette.

"No! All of you out. I can't stand this nonsense. This is my diner. I'm closing up until lunch. All of you get out of here. Come back when you can all form intelligent, normal-sound-level sentences—and then keep 'em to yourselves."

"You don't have to tell _me_ twice," said Chris loudly, trying to capture a semblance of control. "I was already on my way." He shot both Lorelai and Luke a look of contempt

before storming out, the door banging against the wall behind it as the bell jangled. Luke ushered the rest of the diners out, herding them like masses of disgruntled sheep. On her way out, Eastside Tilly managed to flash Lorelai a quick thumbs up and a grin before Luke bellowed, "Out!" once more.

"And you two—" he directed at Jess and Rory. "You're very strange. Get out of here as well."

The two starry eyed teens complied, hands held as they murmured under their breath to one another. Finally the last straggler had made their way out, and the diner was empty save for Luke and Lorelai.

"I'm sorry, Luke," she said once the door was closed and the sign flipped. "That was…insane. He's insane. I should keep him leashed."

He held up a hand. "For once we agree," he said.

There was a moment of silence. "Luke?" asked Lorelai suddenly. "How important are shoes to you?"

"Shoes?" he asked, eyebrows raised. He came closer to Lorelai and she felt the trepidation rise into her chest as his arms slowly encircled her waist. "Not nearly as important as socks."

"Yeah?" she said, a half-grin flitting across her face.

"Yeah. Can't get enough socks," he told her. "Couldn't care less about shoes."

"Good," she said, playing the heel of her boot across her left toe subconsciously. "That's very good."

* * *

_Yeah yeah, not my best work—gimme a break, I'm rusty as hell. Hope it was not torture and at least slightly enjoyable, though (oh, isn't that what any aspiring writer fervently wishes for?). Again, Jombles: enjoy your present. (You see how I put that in the imperative form? Not a slip.)_

_And this isn't the end, cause that'd be an odd ending to this fic. I even have one whole sentence written for the next chapter! Gosh, I'm ahead. And indeed: don't expect this next chapter soon, I shall give you that warning. But know it's coming… stay on your toes, young ones._

_**Next:**__ Luke, Babette, Eastside Tilly, and Taylor form a barbershop quartet—with deadly results. Rory and Paris discuss homecoming and seriously believe the ritual should be put to sleep. Lorelai drinks a glass of milk. All this and more… heavy on the more, light on the "all this."_

_Conversational addition: aren't socks delicious?_


	10. In Which Everything is Wrapped Up

_If any single person out there in the world of fan fiction has forgotten the significance of this date, I spit upon each and every one of you._

_It's Jombles' BIRTHDAY!_

_It's her birthday! It's her 18__th__ one! She can join the army! Do you understand the excitement I am exuding! THE ARMY, PEOPLE! Now, no one here has the slightest desire to join the army (that I am aware of). However, all Jombles has really, sincerely ever wanted is the OPTION to join. I feel her pain; to me it is absolutely forbidden fruit. I must have it! I must! Crew cut be damned!_

_Also new on the scene is the fact that I'm not a total bitch. This, to me, is some of the best news ever!_

_Thirdly: this story is being updated! WTF!_

_Fourthly, I should not be allowed to write author's notes when I'm in a good mood. I seriously planned this as very short but my own exuberance forced its way onto the page._

_Fifthly, on a more sobering note, this is both the last chapter of this fic and of any fic I shall write! Because I know… I have literally… DOZENS of fans out there very upset by this news. Literally HALF-DOZENS of fans. There are literally a COUPLE OF PEOPLE who will be affected by this news. There is an arm and a leg out there belonging to a person that… has read my fic? At all?_

_In conclusion, man, I love you guys! But kind of in that super drunk "I seriously love you man. Seriously, you're one of my best friends. You're awesome. Seriously, can we hug?" kind of way. Which is sincere in its own endearing, hazy way._

_And as we end an era, let the credits roll and the black and white montage play. Now read the damn thing!_

* * *

**Vinegar and Glitter**

Chapter Ten Lords A-Leaping, Eleven Pipers Piping, and Twelve Drummers Drumming: In Which Everything is Wrapped Up

* * *

Timidly Rory linked a few fingers through Jess' hand. She looked up at him through dark eyelashes as he smiled and tightened his grip. They continued their dizzy, aimless stroll in this fashion until they reached the bridge where it had all begun.

"Forgive me," he said as they both took seats on the edge, their feet skimming the top of the dark water, "but I'm not so good at this mushy stuff."

"You're doing okay so far," Rory admitted. He looked down and smirked, shaking his head.

"I feel so bizarre right now. Here I am, sitting with probably the most amazing girl I've ever known, and she and I are actually on the same page, and we're both happy and not secretly fucking someone on the side or something. You're not secretly fucking someone on the side, are you?" he clarified quickly with a look up.

She drew her breath out slowly. "Oh geez, I was planning to tell you… this is awkward."

He enveloped her in a tight one-armed hug and ruffled her hair. "Don't even joke."

She took her hand in his and lay it palm up, tracing the indentations and marveling at his neat curt fingernails. He captured her fingers and pulled them to him, leaning into her for a lingering kiss.

She nipped his lip as they pulled away. "I think you're rubbing off on me."

"Yeah, well, hey, welcome to the club."

* * *

The déjà vu continued across town as Lorelai was perched on the counter with Luke fastened firmly to her mouth. She raked her fingernails across his scalp, loosening his cap and letting it fall to the floor. Hand firmly to her hip, Luke was slow and patient in his perusal of Lorelai's mouth as she tried and failed to draw him into something more passionate.

"Hey," he said, pulling back and planting a kiss to her jaw. "The diner may be closed but it is still breakfast time."

"And haven't you ever heard of breakfast nookie?" insisted Lorelai, hands falling to his collar.

"Breakfast nook, maybe," he said, planting his hands on the counter either side of her.

"Um, hello, Luke," she said faux-patronizingly. "If you think afternoon delight is so mind-blowing, then just imagine the power of mid-morning delirium."

He flashed her a genuine grin, a commodity that was becoming less and less rare to her than it had been. "And let's not forget Euphoria at Dawn."

"Midnight Ecstasy?"

"Early Evening Rapture."

"And, of course, Lunch-time Jubilation."

"Yeah, there's definitely not enough of that," said Luke, smirking.

"Wonderful, bloated, post-French fries sex? It's out of this world."

"Speaking of which…" Luke disappeared to the kitchen, much to Lorelai's chagrin, and appeared with a plate. "You never got your waffle in all the rush."

"You really are the perfect man," said Lorelai as she held out her hands for the plate.

"Sorry it's a little burnt on the edges," apologized Luke.

"Nothing a can of whipped cream can't fix!" Lorelai grabbed the can from behind the counter and went about emptying it on her waffle. "I bet I can make a snowman."

Luke shook his head as he watched her, arms folded. "You could not be farther from the perfect woman for me."

"And yet?" said Lorelai as she shot a spray directly into her mouth.

"And yet you're the only thing I want."

They shared a intimate and almost raw glance from across the counter. Lorelai grinned and scooped a dollop of whipped cream off her waffle with her finger and relocated it to his nose. "Exactly."

* * *

Chris trundled down the sidewalk with all the power and grace of an 18-wheeler, the sides of his leather jacket airborne. He attacked the pavement with each blind step until he finally slowed, blocks from the diner. He took a seat on the curb and put his head in his hands.

It was all gone. His dream of getting Lorelai back and being a real father to Rory—vanished. Lorelai had lied to him and he'd spent all this time back in Stars Hollow palling around with her and Rory for nothing. He had gotten nothing out of it. She had a new man, and by the looks of it, they were pretty stable.

"Such a waste of my time," he grumbled to himself, kicking a pebble out of the gutter.

He felt himself slipping into a deep funk. He was sure, so sure, that Lorelai was the only woman he'd ever _truly_ loved, the only one he could ever imagine loving. His heart was broken. He'd never love again.

The crunch of tires against gravel brought his head back up. His eyes traveled up the length of a purple Mini Cooper and into the eyes of a confused-looking blonde.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but do you know anywhere around here that's good to eat? I mean, I saw this one restaurant, but I'm not really in the mood for pancakes, especially from somewhere that smelled so much like Korean barbeque. And the only other place was closed. I'm just on my way to New York from South Carolina, so I'm a little lost out here." She scratched her head and placed an elbow on the open window of her car. "In fact, I don't actually have any idea where I am," she admitted with a drawl. "Do you think you could help me?"

Chris looked into her vacant and stunning green eyes for a few timeless moments and stood slowly. "For you, anything."

* * *

"So, Taylor, what do you think about all the excitement over at Luke's this morning?" questioned Miss Patty, leaning in as she waited for him to ring up her purchase.

"I think it's all a load of hooey, to tell you the truth," he said brusquely, swiping her bottle of wine and placing it to the side. "It's causing a lot of nonsense that it's really not worth."

"Well I think it's romantic," said Miss Patty, toying with a string of beads around her neck. "Two people like that, getting together after all these years..."

Taylor grunted non-commitedly, pushing past him Brie cheese and a bag of grapes.

"You know, a couple that's always sort of dancing around one another, but never doing anything about it. Finally giving into those feelings, that sexual…tension…"

Taylor paused, his hand in mid-swipe of a pack of sheer pantyhose. He looked up at Miss Patty apprehensively. She batted her eyelashes, raised her eyebrow, cocked her shoulder, flirted with the edge of her shawl.

He cleared his throat lowly and leaned in. "My shift ends in ten minutes."

"I'll meet you in the back in ten minutes."

* * *

_Gawd, it's over. Come on, don't cry. I know I seriously affect you…_

_Anyway, on a more serious note (yes, it's still me), this whole story and experience and everything about everything has been amazing and wonderful and full of great and superb things. Long rambling reviews, endless attacks on a story that got pulled twice due to Anon (Oh, Anon! the memories!), writing that Rory and Dean story as a request for that crazy hick, and of course the A/N's: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the physically dangerous. I may have to list memory number one as the epic Crap Fic. Why did that have to get pulled? That was my best work. Maybe I'll post it on this name. Now I'm just thinking out loud._

_Anyway. BYE!_

_**And in the future:**__ Somewhere, in a distant and un-documented place behind the shelves of the Doose's Market storeroom, something unspeakable takes place that is better off distant and un-documented._

_Happy birthday/life/fan-fiction to one and all!_


End file.
